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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26599759">Haunting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainPeggyCarter21/pseuds/CaptainPeggyCarter21'>CaptainPeggyCarter21</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stolen Nightmares [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action &amp; Romance, Amnesiac Bucky Barnes, Angst, Asexual Bucky Barnes, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Awesome Peggy Carter, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bucky Barnes &amp; Peggy Carter Friendship, Bucky Barnes &amp; Sam Wilson Friendship, Bucky Barnes &amp; Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, Bucky Barnes After Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Nightmares, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes in Bucharest, Bucky Barnes in Wakanda, Canon Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Dirty Jokes, Domestic Bucky Barnes, Domestic Fluff, During Canon, F/M, First Kiss, First Meetings, Hipster Bucky Barnes, Hydra (Marvel), Implied Sexual Content, Memory Loss, Nick Fury is Not Amused, On the Run, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, POV Original Character, Paranoia, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-HYDRA Reveal, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pregnancy, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Romanian Bucky Barnes, Romantic Fluff, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson is So Done, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Strained Friendships, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change, Unexpected Visitors, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wakanda (Marvel), Warnings May Change, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier Program</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:34:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,635</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26599759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainPeggyCarter21/pseuds/CaptainPeggyCarter21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>We just wanted to be left alone - to have a life. But you can't outrun the past.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes &amp; Steve Rogers &amp; Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), Nick Fury &amp; Maria Hill, Peggy Carter &amp; Tony Stark, Steve Rogers &amp; Original Female Character(s), Tony Stark &amp; Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Stolen Nightmares [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926307</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a continuation of <em>Awakening<em>. You don’t have to read that to follow this one, but it definitely adds depth to the characters.</em></em></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The older woman in front of me was the picture of elegance. Her greying hair and deep frown lines told the stories of wisdom gained only from years of experience. Everything about her body language said she hated me. I couldn’t blame her. We had met before, and I was sure it didn’t end well. <br/>
“I don’t know what I did to you.” I struggled to keep my voice level. “But I’m sorry.”<br/>
She scoffed, rolling her eyes, and turned away. “I can’t imagine what it could have been.”<br/>
“No, wait!” My hand darted out as she reached to close the door. “Please.”<br/>
My chin trembled, and my breath shuddered.<br/>
“What?” She let out a dark chuckle. “You double crossed your employers, and they’ll never let you live?”<br/>
My eyebrows pulled together with another shaky breath. “Something like that, yes. I think.”<br/>
“Oh, my dear.” Her face softened. “You meant you don’t know.”<br/>
“The only thing I can remember is your name.” My throat closed around my words. “I know things, and I don’t know how I know them.”<br/>
Peggy took my arm and led me inside quickly, shutting the door behind us. She directed me to a bedroom where she brought me clean clothes. After I showered and dressed – her clothes fit me surprisingly well – we sat at the breakfast table. She had a kettle of tea ready and poured each of us a mug.<br/>
“You took cream, no sugar last time.” She slid the dainty cup in front of me.<br/>
I nodded, staring into the rich, swirling liquid. The smell scratched at the edges of my brain, but stirred up nothing.<br/>
“I knew your partner.” Her spoon clinked quietly against her cup as she stared straight at me. “That’s the only reason I believe you. He never would have –”<br/>
My eyebrows pulled together, and I squeezed my eyes shut. “I didn’t – I don’t –” <br/>
“Sergeant Barnes?” She raised an eyebrow.<br/>
I shook my head slowly, trying to piece something together.<br/>
She patted my hand softly and left the room. When she returned, she carried a thick book close too her chest. She set it on the table beside me and flipped through pages of grainy, black and white photos. She stopped after a few pages, and I studied the images. At the top of the page was Peggy, much younger but still very much the same. A grin split her face, and her eyes crinkled with laughter as a small man with a pencil mustache shook her hand and toyed with what appeared to be a medal of distinction fashioned from spare hardware and scraps of fabric. Thoroughly confused, I moved to the next picture, a group photo. My eyes slid over the image, scanning the men. It was clearly a victory photo. Despite being covered head to toe in what I assumed to be dirt and blood, they all gave tired smiles. It was a small team, a man in an odd hat with a thick mustache, a man in a beret. Peggy was sandwiched between a large, light-haired man and – my heart jumped.<br/>
My fingers flew to the picture, brushing over his face. My lungs collapsed. My mind raced. “Who is he?”<br/>
“I told you,” she smirked. “Sergeant James Barnes. Captain America’s right hand man.”<br/>
I closed my eyes softly. “James.” I knew that. As my eyes fluttered open, I skimmed the photos on the next page, finding one of James scowling at the camera with a swollen jaw and prominently raised middle finger as the man in the beret tugged at stitches.<br/>
“He fell asleep on his horse,” Peggy chuckled, “a low hanging branch swept him right off the hind end.”<br/>
I flipped page after page, touching his face every time I saw it. He was tired and dirty, but he was happy. The light-haired man was always near him. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought they preferred each other. My chest tightened as I realized I didn’t know better. I didn’t know him. I turned the page quickly, blinking hard, and busied myself with the next photo. The whole team gathered around a map as Peggy pointed authoritatively. <br/>
“You love him.” Peggy’s voice made me jump, <br/>
I swallowed hard. That couldn’t be possible. “What happened?”<br/>
“To yours or mine?” Her gaze went distant for a brief moment before she shook her head. “Not that it matters – missing in action, presumed dead. Steve was never the same after we lost James. If he’d known what we do, maybe things would have been different.”<br/>
I turned to find her lost in the photograph. Her eyes locked on to the light-haired man standing beside her, perhaps a hair too close. For the first time, I realized he was the only one not staring intently at Peggy’s hands. He studied her face, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.<br/>
“We’re not so different, you and I.” She stopped herself from reaching for the picture, her eyes hazing over. “Since you’re here without him, I assume…” She let the sentence hang, slowly realizing her own train of thought.<br/>
I snapped the album shut, willing away the thoughts of what they had done to him in the days since I escaped, what they were doing right now. “I don’t know anything about him.”<br/>
She hummed, unconvinced. “Those men have their own museum in DC. Sergeant Barnes features prominently. You should go.”<br/>
“I can’t stay.” My voice barely made a sound. “I need your help.”<br/>
“Yes, I thought you might mean that.” She took a long breath and stood slowly. “Very well.”<br/>
The drive lulled me to sleep almost immediately. The adrenaline wore off hours ago, and my whole body ached. The soft rumble of the road gently worked at my knotted muscles and, less pleasantly, my broken bones. When we arrived at the large beach house, the sun was falling below the ocean on the horizon. <br/>
I followed her to the door, moving much too slow for my liking. She knocked hesitantly and rubbed her temples, mumbling to herself. When the door swung open a young man with dark hair appeared in the doorway, his face contorting quickly.<br/>
“What the hell are you doing here?”<br/>
“Please, Anthony.” Peggy rolled her eyes and shoved past him. “That’s no way to greet me after all this time.”<br/>
“All this time,” Anthony sneered, “wasn’t an accident.”<br/>
“And, here I thought you left because you’d already been in bed with every woman in New York.” She waved him off as she explored the expansive entry way.<br/>
Anthony shuffled after her, leaving me to trail behind. “Well, I recently came into some money. Had nothing else to do with it.”<br/>
“This is much too large for you, Anthony.” She meandered into the kitchen and looked over the appliances. “Do you even cook?”<br/>
“What do you want?” He grabbed her wrist as she reached for a cabinet and gently lowered her hand.<br/>
I examined the women’s clothes scattered over the floor. Peggy’s clothes didn’t blend in, not on a woman my age. I yanked the zipper down my back and the dress dropped to my ankles. As I bent over to lift a shirt from the floor, Anthony turned around.<br/>
“I like her." His eyebrows shot up as he grinned at me.<br/>
Peggy looked over her shoulder and did a double take before rushing across the floor. “Dear, no.” <br/>
She snapped the dress up to my chest, bunching the fabric in her fists. After a brief conversation with Anthony about dry cleaning, she took me to a bedroom with a full closet. The clothes were hung crisply on the hangers, with clear plastic hanging over them. I picked a magenta tunic dress because it had matching leggings. I didn’t care about the colors, but the leggings were the closest thing to pants I could find. And blending in was always better than not. Since I had no idea which decade I was in, I couldn’t chance piecing my own outfit together. I edged back down the hallway, listening in to Peggy and Anthony. I didn’t trust him, and I shouldn’t trust her. Glimpses of their reflections flashed in the various shaped mirrors along the walls.<br/>
Peggy shook her curls and sighed. “She needs help.”<br/>
“That’s not really my forte.”<br/>
“I can’t run this through the agency.”<br/>
“She must be Hydra,” he snickered.<br/>
My heart stopped briefly, and my tired muscles prepared to run. He shouldn’t know. The only thing keeping me in place was the hint of contempt in his voice.<br/>
“It wasn’t shell shock.” Her lips curled into a snarl before she composed herself. “I know trauma. That wasn’t it.”<br/>
Anthony’s face softened mockingly. “I know, Aunt Peggy.”<br/>
“Don’t patronize me.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “We have a complicated history. She needs to disappear.”<br/>
He kicked back in his seat and his eyes narrowed. “You really aren’t going to tell me, are you?”<br/>
“Tell you what?” <br/>
“Where he was going that night.”<br/>
She let out an exasperated sigh. “There is nothing to tell. He left the holiday party early and –" <br/>
“And what?” Anthony slammed his hand on the table. “I know damn well that road isn’t on the way to the airport, and so do you.”<br/>
Her nostrils flared, and she locked her jaw. “Whatever it is you think you know, Anthony, you don’t.” <br/>
I shrank against the wall, wrapping my arms around myself. <br/>
“You were the one who gave me the news,” Anthony snarled. “Stayed with me all week planning the service. You sat right beside me. And I –” He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth. “I had to find out from Obie.”<br/>
A suppressed giggle slipped between Peggy’s lips. “Honestly, you can’t trust a word that man says.”<br/>
“You’d been meeting for months,” Anthony shouted, but Peggy didn’t flinch. “Middle of the night, some secret safe house.”<br/>
“Didn’t Howard teach you –” <br/>
“My father didn’t teach me anything,” Anthony roared, jumping to his feet. “He was too busy traipsing around the world with you. All business, I’m sure.”<br/>
“You’ve already made a fool of yourself.” Peggy set her jaw. “Stop before you look like an idiot.”<br/>
“He was meeting you that night.” Anthony locked eyes with her.<br/>
Peggy stood calmly, tipping her chin up. “I don’t expect you to understand.”<br/>
“I understand just fine. I knew him, remember?” he scoffed. “But you, you let me think you were different, that he didn’t affect you. And this whole time, you two were sneaking around.”<br/>
“You’ve no idea what went on between me and your father.”<br/>
“I don’t give a shit what you and my dad did all night or how long it went on.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t care if your husband knew. It doesn’t even bother me that you did it all while having tea with my mother. She certainly knew how Dad was when she married him.” He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fist. “What I can’t wrap my head around is why my mother was even that goddamn car.”<br/>
“Neither can I,” Peggy’s voice broke. “She shouldn’t have been.”<br/>
When I entered the room, Peggy sat at the kitchen table with her head in her hands. I stood against the wall skirting the room. I never liked attention, but this was different. Every fiber of my being desperately avoided the conflict. A part of me hated seeing Peggy upset, but a bigger part of me couldn’t move any closer. I couldn’t bring myself to leave the wall.<br/>
Anthony worked his jaw slowly. “I’ll help her, but it’s time for you to go.”<br/>
“As soon as you’re done.” Peggy cleared her throat and brushed her hair back.<br/>
Anthony shook his head and pointed at me. “She’s welcome to stay. You need to go.”<br/>
Peggy began to protest but Anthony cut her off.<br/>
“I let you in and heard you out because that’s what my mother would have done.” His jaw locked, and his eyes hardened. “But nothing would make me happier than to physically remove you from my property.”<br/>
After a long breath, Peggy nodded. “Very well.”<br/>
Her heels clicked over the tile flooring as she made her way back to the door. I rushed after her, calling for her just as she reached for the handle.<br/>
“He’s a prick,” Peggy smirked sadly, “but he is a good man. And he’s brilliant. This may be one of the safest places in the world until you can get a new identity.”<br/>
“His father was Howard Stark.”<br/>
Her eyes flashed. “Yes.”<br/>
“That, his death, it – it wasn’t –” <br/>
“I know.” She laid a hand on my arm to silence me. “Probably more than you.”<br/>
I pulled my eyebrows together, pursing my lips. “Why don’t you tell him?”<br/>
“It won’t bring them back, dear. And, trust me, it doesn’t ease the pain.” She let out a long breath. “He’s young. He needs to blame someone, and at least this way he won’t spend his time seeking revenge.”<br/>
I stood silently, mulling over her words. She cared for him. Deeply. When she turned away again, I called her back.<br/>
“I know SHIELD.” I shut my eyes and combed through my brain. “I saw the award in the hall. I think th–”<br/>
“Yes, I know.” She nodded sharply. “Hydra is already here. They’ve been undermining me since you took my daughter. They’ve infiltrated my agency, and I can’t stop them. They’ll corrupt everything I’ve worked my entire life to achieve.”<br/>
I clenched my fists. I took her daughter. That’s how I knew her. And she still helped me.<br/>
“I can feel my own memories beginning to fade at the edges.” A sad smile ghosted over her face. “My only comfort is hoping whatever you’ve done gets to me before I have to watch it happen.”<br/>
With another reassurance, she left me in the mansion. I made my way back to the kitchen, but Anthony was gone. I took the opportunity to explore the house, investigating his history. I needed to know who he was. I needed leverage in case he double crossed me. <br/>
“Looking for something?” <br/>
I straightened abruptly and turned to face Anthony. “Just learning about you.”<br/>
He looked over the wall of newspaper clippings and glanced at the alcove in the wall. I left one of the drawers cracked open.<br/>
“You could just ask.” He quirked an eyebrow up and nodded toward a doorway. <br/>
I followed him into an office and watched him busy himself at the dry bar. I didn’t say a word, observing his every move. Peggy was right. He seemed honest and good.<br/>
He passed me a drink and raised another to his lips. “What is it you want to know?”<br/>
“Why are you helping me?” I took a step toward the bar while he crossed the room to lean on the desk.<br/>
“The only thing you did wrong was trust Peggy.” He shrugged. “I can sympathize.”<br/>
After a beat of silence, I took a sip. “What’s your story with Peggy?”<br/>
“Straight for the kill,” he chuckled. “She was friends with my dad since the war – much closer than I thought, it turns out. Her husband died, and her kids couldn’t handle the Alzheimer’s diagnosis.”<br/>
He swirled his glass, ice clinking against the sides. I waited silently, a tactic I’d learned at some point. One I knew to be the most useful. He liked to talk. He’d fill the silence.<br/>
“She knew my dad would be drinking at that party. She knew he shouldn’t have been driving, but she asked him to meet her anyway.” He swallowed the remainder of his drink and set the glass down sharply. “My mother's dead, and it’s her fault. I’ll never forgive that.”<br/>
I could tell him. “I’m sorry.” I couldn’t, though. Peggy was right.<br/>
He shrugged and wiped his lips. “How did you meet Peggy?”<br/>
I worked my jaw, sorting through memories. “I don’t know.”<br/>
“She wasn’t kidding about complicated.” He shook his head and made his way across the room to me. “How about we uncomplicate things?” His hand trailed from my elbow up to my shoulder. “I know a few tricks.”<br/>
Ash he reached for my face, I wrenched his hand away, twisting it behind his back. His wrist popped loudly, making him wince before his chest slammed into the bar top. He let out a groan, and I released him. I’d made my point.<br/>
“A simple ‘no' would have done the trick.” He jumped back, shaking his hand out. “I need these. I’m a mechanic.”<br/>
My heart pounded. “This isn’t a job for a mechanic.” Peggy had really lost it. I was out of luck.<br/>
He smirked, retreating to his computer. “I’m a well-funded mechanic.” He rotated his wrist once more, resulting in another quiet pop, and set to work.<br/>
After a few silent moments, he motioned me toward a blank wall. I followed his directions and stood with my back to the wall, staring straight ahead. A quiet click was the only indication he’d taken a picture. Once he got to work, his chattering ceased. The silence was actually a relief. He didn’t expect an explanation or press for intel. He just worked.<br/>
“You look like you could use some rest.” His eyes peeked over the monitor. “I can handle it from here. Grab a bite too, if you’re hungry.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I glanced at my American passport one more time before tucking it into my backpack. Emily Baker was a big jump from Daciana Rusu. My alias of the last two decades had served me well. Hopefully, I could return to it when this was all said and done. I very much liked Romania. It was quiet, which was the reason I picked it, and truly beautiful. I spent my time wandering the countryside, moving every few years as people got to know me. I wanted to see the city, but I’d never made it there.</p><p>With a breath, I hoisted my backpack over one shoulder and plastered a broad smile on my face. I bounced on my toes and flipped my deep brown hair over my shoulder as I trotted off the plane. My cropped leather jacket brushed my waist as my arms swung quickly. My gloved hands held my burner phone at various angles, using selfies to cover my paranoid glances over my shoulder. The terminal bustled with activity. Wheels scraped across the tile as travelers rushed to and from different gates. Lines for the coffee shops stretched along the wall in the main hallway. Grills sizzled as warm aromas drifted through the air. My heart skipped when I caught sight of a television.</p><p>The cell phone footage still dominated the news cycle. After all, it wasn’t every day a man with a metal arm strutted down the highway at rush hour with a grenade launcher in the capitol of the United States. It was a small miracle the airport was still open. The news called it a terrorist attack, but I knew better. Hydra was never in the business of terrorism, they relied more on subversion. And even if they were, they wouldn’t send him. This was an assassination.</p><p>The moment I saw the news in Romania, I booked my flight to Washington, DC. My date was dumbfounded by my sudden exit, and I doubted he believed I had a cat. It was our third date; he was probably hoping for more than coffee, and I didn’t even stay for dessert.</p><p>My search began with my first step out of the airport. There were only a few places he would be. I started outside the metro area and worked my way in. It didn’t take long. I had a great deal of experience tracking down targets. Before my stomach even grumbled, I was standing in a small bunker – better lit than I remembered – with only a card table between us. I dropped my backpack on the table and gripped the vial in my jacket pocket.</p><p>“Fury.” I gave a sharp nod.</p><p>He eyed me suspiciously, and I heard the slide of a pistol scrape behind me.</p><p>“I think I’ve had enough surprises for one day.” He coughed, clutching his ribs. “Who are you?”</p><p>“No one.” I slid my hands out of my pocket and held them in the air, vial still in my palm.</p><p>The figure in my periphery stalked across the room and pried the serum away. “What is this?”</p><p>“Your only hope.” I barely afforded her a glance before snapping my attention back to Fury. “Hydra saw fit to send the Winter Soldier after you. He won’t stop until your dead.”</p><p>“Or he is,” Fury groaned.</p><p>I failed to stifle a laugh. “You need my help. I want yours in return.”</p><p>“We’re not as vulnerable as we look.” The woman made her way back into my field of vision.</p><p>“I found you.” I rolled my eyes. “From halfway around the world with no resources.”</p><p>“And now you’re outnumbered and outgunned.” The woman crossed her arms and popped a hip, arrogance at its finest.</p><p>With a scoff, I lunged at the woman, quickly relieving her of her weapon. Stepping back with a bloody lip, I unloaded her pistol harmlessly. “No, I’m not.”</p><p>Fury’s gaze darted to the woman and back. “What makes you so sure of his success.”</p><p>“Together, we took down Peggy Carter,” I smirked. “He can more than handle you on his own.”</p><p>Fury extended his hand toward the woman, and she laid the vial in it. He turned it over and gave it a shake. “And this is?”</p><p>“Developed by your Banner, confiscated by Hydra.” I closed my eyes, pushing away memories. “I risked quite a bit to get it.”</p><p>He placed it gently on the table. “Why do I want it?”</p><p>“I said I wanted your help.” I raised my eyebrows, waiting.</p><p>He clicked his tongue impatiently. “I’ll think about it.”</p><p>That was probably the best I would get. My fingers slid over the flash drive in my pocket as I explained. “It slows your heartrate to a point you could pass as dead. I’d been saving it for a rainy day.”</p><p>His face softened almost imperceptibly. “What is it you want from us?”</p><p>With a long breath, I pulled a flash drive from my pocket. Another great risk I’d taken. I would have risked anything for this. It landed on the table with a clatter, echoing off the concrete walls.</p><p>“It’s an override for Hydra’s latest weapon.”</p><p>Fury’s eye flashed as he studied me. “The helicarriers?”</p><p>I nodded. “You’ll need to copy the code onto chips for each one.”</p><p>Fury passed the drive to the woman, who took it to another room.</p><p>I squared my shoulders and planted my feet. “Those files you took from the Lemurian Star, I want you to give them to Steve Rogers.”</p><p>Fury stared me down. He’d gone to great lengths to keep that information away from Rogers. “Why?”</p><p>“He deserves the truth.” We all did.</p><p>I didn’t know the man, but he was critical. Rogers was the only one I trusted to get the job done. Peggy had too many liabilities to take the risk. They flourished under Fury’s leadership. The Commandos left too many pieces behind.</p><p>Fury narrowed his eyes at me and took several measured breaths. Without a word, he struggled to his feet and limped to a trench coat hanging on a chair in the corner. The leather rustled as he fished around the pockets. The tense silence made the room shrink around me. I hated being closed in, especially with people I didn’t know. But I knew very few people, so it was a feeling I learned to deal with.</p><p>He straightened up, brandishing a flash drive of his own. “I’ll give Rogers the file.”</p><p>I let out a breath.</p><p>“But how do I know this serum isn’t poison, like the one you slipped Carter?” He cocked his head to the side. “Or that code isn’t the key to arming those carriers?”</p><p>Technically, I never drugged Peggy. But the accusation still made my stomach lurch. She trusted me, and I kidnapped her daughter. We took everything from her, and she still helped me. I did a lot of things to a lot of people, but most of them earned it. Powerful people were rarely innocent, and Peggy was no exception. But she was good.</p><p>“You show up unknown and unannounced after an attempt on my life with everything we need to tear Hydra to the ground. Seems awfully convenient.” He raised his voice in an authoritative tone. He wasn’t one to be pushed around. “My last loyal agents are relying on me to get this right. Why should I trust you?”</p><p>He had a point. I knew it would come to this. I was no Captain America, fighting for justice and freedom. I didn’t owe him anything. I had no stake in SHIELD. My mission was no business of his, but I had to give him something. I knew that before I even booked my flight. If he was going to help me, he had to know what I had to gain in all this.</p><p>I shrugged my jacket off my shoulders, titanium gleaming in the dim light, and my eyelids fluttered shut. “I just want my soldier back.”</p><p>I waited patiently over the next week. When I saw the news about a gas explosion at a defunct Army base in New Jersey, I knew Fury came through. Steve Rogers was in the game. Less than two days later, footage surfaced of Rogers in a standoff with the Winter Soldier without his mask. The world knew who he was, and that complicated my escape plan. Not impossible, though. From that point, it was only a matter of time. When live coverage of the disaster at the Triskelion flashed onto my motel television, I shoved my scarce belongings into my bag and left the key on the nightstand.</p><p>Rogers was found on the bank of the Potomac. There was no mention of the Winter Soldier. That meant no body. I tugged my ball cap down and hailed a cab. He had questions, and there was one place he was sure to find answers. If I didn’t get there first he might spook and run before I had a chance to talk to him. As the cab approached the museum, I shoved a handful of cash at the driver. When he parked, I jumped out the door, bag on my shoulder. The shirt tied around my waist brushed the backs of my thighs as I skipped up the steps. I hated the skinny jean trend. They were impossible to move in.</p><p>Strangers shuffled out of my way as I bounded along the sidewalk and through the doors. The museum was five years old; it should not still be this popular. He was only one man who didn’t even finish one war. We shaped decades of history – turned the tides of wars, dropped entire regimes to their knees – and we did it without being noticed. <em>That </em>was an achievement. Popularity distorted rationality, not that I would ever trade my anonymity for stardom. I had my share of importance. I didn’t need influence or greatness, and certainly not a museum. I just wanted a life.</p><p>And there he was, hunched in the middle of entering tourists. Head down, he proceeded along the tour route, hiding himself among the crowd. It took great skill to blend six feet of former assassin behind a mother of two from Silver Spring. His stubbled jaw worked as he examined the displays. I watched him as his eyes scanned the stories silently, lips moving silently as he read. I kept myself a few exhibits away, wandering aimlessly to and from different pieces. His shoulders slumped timidly, his weight shifting constantly, ready to run at a moment’s notice. I knew the feeling.</p><p>As he neared the costume stage, I approached from the opposite end. When I reached the center, he was nowhere to be found. My lungs collapsed, and my heart pounded as I spun around. I searched the room, my eyes landing an the entrance to the theater. My feet moved before my brain, and I rushed toward the door. As I passed a small alcove, a hand wrapped around my elbow and swung me into the wall. Another hand pinned my wrist to the wall as I threw a punch.</p><p>“Why are you watching me?” His steel blue eyes bored into mine, and my chest tightened.</p><p>I leaned into my toes and lifted my hand to his face. He didn’t try to restrain the movement, and before either of us knew what was happening, our lips crashed together. My fingers dug into the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer, and my bionic hand moved to cradle his neck. His lips made mine tingle. His hand slid under my jacket and wrapped around my waist, heat from his palm bleeding through my tank top. His musk filled my lungs, and my throat closed. After another heartbeat, he leaned away without taking a step. A gloved hand wrapped around my titanium wrist and untangled my fingers from his hair.</p><p>He looked over my hand and swallowed hard. “I don’t –” His eyes squeezed shut, and he shook his head.</p><p>“It’s okay,” I grinned and ran my free hand over his jaw. “It’s okay. I’ll help you remember.”</p><p>My chest shuddered with every breath. I never dared hope this would work. I thought for years he was dead. When I found out he wasn’t, I never thought I’d see him again. Unless Hydra had his hand around my throat.</p><p>“I’ll tell you everything.” My fingers pressed into his skin, begging him to stay. “We’ll figure it out together.”</p><p>He pinched his eyebrows together and took a step away, driving the heel of his hand into his forehead. “I shouldn’t trust you.”</p><p>“But you do.” My voice barely made it above a whisper. I didn’t know if I wanted the answer.</p><p>Slowly, he nodded his head and relaxed his jaw. “Why?”</p><p>“You may not remember me,” my eyes welled with tears as a smile broke over my face again, “but you do know me. And I promise the memories will come back.”</p><p>“I don’t –” His eyes darted to the edge of the alcove and back to me. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”</p><p>“It’s okay.” My thumb skimmed over his cheekbone while my other hand combed through his hair gently. “It’s okay. I’ll help you. Just come with me.”</p><p>His eyes fell closed and he leaned into my palm. “Where?”</p><p>“I have a little place set up in Romania.” I scanned the small nook and looked out into the main room. “You’ll love it. We can get you a new alias and start over.”</p><p>I looked up at him as he mulled it over quietly. In my converse, I barely came eye level with his chin. I never realized how much extra height my combat boots gave me. His wheels turned quickly, his eyes flitting across my face. His eyes were always deep – caring. I couldn’t remember a time they didn’t soften when they looked at me. But maybe that was by subconscious choice.</p><p>When he finally nodded, my heart leapt. I sprang onto my toes again, capturing his mouth in a kiss. Our teeth scraped as I broke into another grin, and his chuckle puffed over my cheek.</p><p>As he stepped away again, his hands lingered on my hips. “Can we stay a little? I just need to know –”</p><p>I nodded softly and wrapped myself around his arm. “We’ll do the tourist thing.”</p><p>I leaned my head into his shoulder and led him back to the main gallery. We kept our heads down, whispering quietly among ourselves as we made our way around. When someone strayed too close, he pulled me tighter to his side and nestled his face into my hair. His breath on my neck made me giggle and stirred a flutter deep in my stomach. As we entered the final room, he stopped short.</p><p>He swallowed hard. “That’s me.”</p><p>I looked at the life size black-and-white headshot on the memorial wall for Sergeant James Buchannan Barnes. A lump caught in my throat as I recalled the images Peggy had shown me years ago – from a time when he was happy.</p><p>I stepped away and looked him over, then glanced back at the portrait. “No, he’s younger.”</p><p>James broke into a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and let a stifled laugh out through his nose. My whole body warmed at the sight. I knew that smile. Somehow, in all those years of torture and abuse, I made him laugh. I couldn’t remember the context, but I knew I had.</p><p>“By a few lifetimes.” As his smile fell, he drew his lip between his teeth and turned to me. “Let’s go home.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's time to get rolling. Who's ready to know what happened in Romania?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Yasha is the diminutive form of the Russian version of James*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>A basket full </span><span>of </span><span>berries </span><span>hung from my </span><span>arm as I crossed the</span><span> small field. </span><span>I popped a </span><span>blue</span><span>berry </span><span>in my mouth </span><span>and </span><span>leaned my shoulder into the door.</span> <span>The </span><span>quiet creak echoed in my ears</span><span>, and the smell</span><span> of</span> <span>fresh bread wafted from the kitchen. </span><span>A sense of security washed over me as my eyes landed on James </span><span>bent over the table. </span><span>An empty glass </span><span>sat to his left</span><span> next to a </span><span>disorganized stack of papers.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Keep your goat out of my berries.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He turned </span>
  <span>with a raised eyebrow and mischievous smirk.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I snickered along with him and swatted his shoulder. </span>
  <span>With Hydra on the run, we could finally rest.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> goat.” </span>
  <span>He stood to take the basket from my arm and kissed my cheek. “Or did you forget who insisted on having fresh milk?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I only wanted to make cheese.” </span>
  <span>I </span>
  <span>turned the water on softly and began rinsing the berries. “You’re the one who named </span>
  <span>her</span>
  <span>.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>How was I not going </span>
  <span>call </span>
  <span>it</span>
  <span> Ramsey?” </span>
  <span>He wrapped his arms around my waist and smiled against my ear. </span>
  <span>“Any other name would be a waste.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I rolled my eyes. </span>
  <span>“She’s not a ram</span>
  <span>.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not how she got the name.” </span>
  <span>He knocked his head into mine softly with a teasing laugh.</span>
  
</p><p><span>I flicked water over my shoulder</span><span>, and he scurried away</span><span>, wiping his face.</span> <span>His eyes sparkled as </span><span>he </span><span>placed large</span><span>, empty</span> <span>jars</span><span> on the counter</span> <span>next to me </span><span>and </span><span>retrieved the vodka from the pantry. </span></p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get the last batch out of your way.”</span>
  
  
</p><p><span>I watched him as I began pouring</span><span> various </span><span>berries into </span><span>the </span><span>empty</span> <span>glass</span><span> containers</span><span>.</span><span> Vodka sloshed loudly as</span><span> it splattered into the thick syrup at the bottom of each </span><span>jar</span><span> by Bucky</span><span>.</span> <span>He moved with such ease it was hard to believe I had only taught him a few weeks ago. </span><span>The process was simple, </span><span>and the recipe forgiving. </span><span>I spent many years perfecting it before I found James. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Hey, go easy with that.” My eyes snapped </span>
  <span>to him. “You’re going to kill somebody.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>“We’ll keep this one for us then.”</span> <span>A guilty smile crossed his face as he topped the </span><span>jar</span> <span>off with vodka </span><span>and met my gaze. “It would be very bad for business if you killed someone your first day in the market.”</span></p><p><span>“I’m beginning to think you did it on purpose.”</span> <span>I </span><span>couldn’t help laughing as he suppressed a smile.</span></p><p>
  <span>After screwing the lids on tightly, he </span>
  <span>packed the jars carefully in a crate and hefted it under his arm.</span>
  <span> “I’ll </span>
  <span>bring the others up from the cellar when I come</span>
  <span>.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A laugh </span>
  <span>slipped between my lips. “And why would you do that?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tasting.” He shrugged. “You can’t sell it before you try it.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>My heart warmed as I watched him leave.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Son of a bitch.” Glass clinked together while he groaned.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Ramsey charged him like I knew she would. She always did at dinner time</span>
  <span>, just to make sure we didn’t forget her. I couldn’t stop my grin from spreading. </span>
  <span>In the years I spent alone, I never dared dream of this. </span>
  <span>Hydra was always around one corner or another looking for me – waiting for me to make </span>
  <span>a mistake. </span>
  <span>I had to keep moving and stay off the grid. </span>
  <span>I had always hoped I’d find James, but I never thought we could build a life. I thought we’d </span>
  <span>never </span>
  <span>stop running.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Now, with Hydra in shambles, we stayed.</span>
  <span> We rented a house just outside of town, and </span>
  <span>set to work.</span>
  <span> It wasn’t a farm by any means, but it was home. We had a goat and a few </span>
  <span>berry</span>
  <span> bushes, and it was </span>
  <span>perfect. </span>
  <span>We sold cheese and liqueur in the local market, and </span>
  <span>we were stocking up </span>
  <span>to sell in</span>
  <span> Bucharest </span>
  <span>in a few weeks.</span>
  
  
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t much, but it was ours. And at the end of </span>
  <span>the day, </span>
  <span>we didn’t have to lock our doors. When the sun set, </span>
  <span>we curled up on the couch with a glass of wine and watched a little TV. </span>
  <span>Not the news or anything important, just mindless programming. It was </span>
  <span>one of </span>
  <span>the best </span>
  <span>feelings</span>
  <span> in the world</span>
  <span>, second only to </span>
  <span>being tucked safely in his arms as</span>
  <span> I drifted off to sleep at </span>
  <span>night</span>
  <span>.</span>
  
</p><p><span>And </span><span>only on occasion, </span><span>I w</span><span>o</span><span>ke up </span><span>alone in the middle of the night.</span><span> I </span><span>searched the bed blindly</span><span>, despite knowing it was empty.</span> <span>Only </span><span>a </span><span>month or two</span><span> ago, I would have </span><span>darted out of bed </span><span>and </span><span>grabbed my go bag, only slowing down when I saw him sitting at the kitchen table</span><span>.</span> <span>That first month, his</span> <span>absence</span> <span>would s</span><span>top my heart and</span> <span>send</span><span> a chill through my bones</span><span>. </span><span>Every night</span><span> was like I never </span><span>got </span><span>him back. </span></p><p><span>Instead, I slid out of bed and pulled my </span><span>robe up my arms, tying it around my waist. The cold silk sent chills over my skin as I walked into the living room.</span> <span>Shadows loomed </span><span>in t</span><span>he yellow glow of the</span><span> light in</span> <span>dining area, stretching </span><span>up walls and across the floor. </span><span>They didn’t taunt me like they did before. I no longer looked over my shoulder to find the </span><span>monsters they concealed. The soft lighting </span><span>was always a small comfort in the dark of night; it was so different from the cold</span><span>, fluorescent </span><span>lights in the compound. </span></p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Yasha</span>
  <span>?” </span>
  <span>I rubbed my bleary eyes </span>
  <span>and squinted at the silhouette at the table.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced over his shoulder and dragged his hand through his hair. “Go back to bed</span>
  <span>. I’m fine.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I can’t sleep alone.” I leaned against the doorway.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d hate to hear what you did all those years before.” He chuckled as he turned toward me.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t sleep.” </span>
  <span>I padded </span>
  <span>over</span>
  <span> the floor and</span>
  <span> rubbed a hand up his arm. “I didn’t have anyone to help me through my memories.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Anya,” h</span>
  <span>is eyes </span>
  <span>glittered</span>
  <span> with amusement before they </span>
  <span>darkened</span>
  <span>, “</span>
  <span>how can – you don’t want to be with me.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Родные</span>
  <span>,” </span>
  <span>I took his chin between my fingers and met his gaze, “I am not leaving you.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <span>shook my hand off and pushed me away with a hand on each hip.</span>
  <span> “The things I did to you.” </span>
  <span>He squeezes his eyes shut. </span>
  <span>“How can you trust me?”</span>
  
</p><p><span>I let out a controlled breath.</span><span> He was bound to remember that day eventually.</span><span> I knew that, but it still </span><span>stirred up memories of my own.</span> <span>Very real and painful memories.</span></p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t you.”</span>
  <span> I reached </span>
  <span>out to brush the hair from his face, but dropped my</span>
  <span> hand when his jaw clenched.</span>
  
</p><p><span>“It was though.” </span><span>Tears </span><span>welled</span><span> up in his eyes. “</span><span>And m</span><span>aybe I couldn’t stop it, but I did it.</span> <span>I </span><span>–</span><span> You were –</span> <span>I remember all of it.”</span></p><p><span>“No, you don’t.” </span><span>I silence</span><span>d </span><span>his argument before </span><span>he made</span><span> a sound.</span><span> “You remember that day</span><span>. T</span><span>here were thousands of others</span><span>, and few of them were good.</span> <span>You know that</span><span>. </span><span>You </span><em><span>remember </span></em><span>that</span><span>. You were there.”</span></p><p>
  <span>His eyes </span>
  <span>shut tightly, and he ground his teeth.</span>
  <span> His </span>
  <span>grip loosened as I stepped forward</span>
  <span> and </span>
  <span>nudged my way between his legs. </span>
  <span>When my </span>
  <span>advance was stopped by the edge of his chair, I tipped his face up and smiled.</span>
  
</p><p><span>“</span><span>You were there,</span><span>”</span><span> I whispered. “</span><span>And i</span><span>f you think</span><span>, after all that</span><span>, after everything they did</span><span> to us,</span> <span>a few hours </span><span>of </span><span>abuse could </span><span>change </span><span>what years built between us</span><span> – well, then</span> <span>they</span><span> really</span><span> did drive you mad.”</span></p><p>
  <span>He huffed out a laugh</span>
  <span>, dropping his head. “You’re really not going anywhere.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my </span>
  <span>head, </span>
  <span>bouncing </span>
  <span>my </span>
  <span>messy hair </span>
  <span>across my shoulders. “Never again. Now come back to bed with me.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t sleep,” he groaned. “</span>
  <span>My mind is too jumbled.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I sat gently on his leg and leaned </span>
  <span>his</span>
  <span> cheek on </span>
  <span>my</span>
  <span> shoulder. </span>
  <span>His</span>
  <span> nose </span>
  <span>brushed along the crook of </span>
  <span>my</span>
  <span> neck, breathing </span>
  <span>me</span>
  <span> in. </span>
  <span>I rubbed circles over his chest</span>
  <span>, h</span>
  <span>i</span>
  <span>s </span>
  <span>steady heartbeat </span>
  <span>under my hand </span>
  <span>slow</span>
  <span>ing </span>
  <span>my own</span>
  <span>. H</span>
  <span>is warmth bled through my robe.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Talk to me.”</span>
  
  
</p><p>
  <span>He took a long breath before leaning back to look at me. “They took everything</span>
  <span> that made me </span>
  <span>me</span>
  <span>.</span>
  <span>”</span>
  
</p><p><span>“I know</span><span>.</span><span>”</span> <span>I </span><span>ran my finger</span><span>s </span><span>along his jaw, my nails scraping </span><span>through his light stubble. </span></p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>I don’t have my own nightmares anymore.” </span>
  <span>His eyes fell closed</span>
  <span>, </span>
  <span>and a shiver ran through his body. “It’s always them.” </span>
  
</p><p><span>“My best friend must not have been a national hero</span><span>.” </span><span>I lowered my voice to </span><span>calm </span><span>his racing thoughts. </span><span>“Because </span><span>I don’t have a museum.</span> <span>I don’t </span><span>even know my real name.</span><span>”</span></p><p>
  <span>His eyes fluttered open, lighting up. “I’m sorry. I never thought about it.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>“It’s better like this.”</span> <span>My </span><span>fingers curled in his hair</span><span>. “Whoever I was before, I’m not now.</span><span>”</span></p><p>
  <span>He nodded </span>
  <span>and let his hand skim over the small of my back as he studied his bionic hand. “I don’t think I am either.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I watched </span>
  <span>his face go slack as he worked through his thoughts. </span>
  <span>His eyebrows pulled </span>
  <span>together, creasing his forehead. </span>
  <span>His lips pursed and relaxed, </span>
  <span>quirking from side to side. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I just wish I could fit the pieces together,” he finally sighed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” I patted his cheek and turned toward the table. “Let’s see what I can do.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I pulled his notebook toward me</span>
  <span> and scanned the pages. </span>
  <span>His choppy handwriting covered the pages</span>
  <span>. </span>
  <span>Notes and arrows smudged the margins, </span>
  <span>packing information onto the pages. </span>
  <span>It </span>
  <span>mirrored his mental state perfectly</span>
  <span> the way it darted from one thought to another and circled </span>
  <span>back to the beginning.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Prague was before Budapest.” I pointed at one of the entries.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He drew the side of his cheek between his teeth and picked up his pen. “</span>
  <span>Do you know the year?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I pursed my lips to the side and shook my head. </span>
  <span>“Only that </span>
  <span>it</span>
  <span> was before </span>
  <span>I got out in 1992.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes gently and </span>
  <span>took several deep breaths. </span>
  <span>His lips parted slightly as a piece fell into place.</span>
  <span> “Anything else?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you could use </span>
  <span>a distraction.” I twisted around</span>
  <span> to face him,</span>
  <span> slinging my leg </span>
  <span>over his lap</span>
  <span>. “And I could go for a little entertainment.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His lips </span>
  <span>brushed over </span>
  <span>mine, breath </span>
  <span>warming my skin. His nose </span>
  <span>skimmed along my cheek. “</span>
  <span>Not tonight.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” </span>
  <span>I smirked and </span>
  <span>pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Let me make some coffee, and I’ll take another look.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>After </span><span>pouring myself a mug, I </span><span>settled across his lap and flipped through his notes. </span><span>He listened diligently to each of my clarifications</span><span>, seemingly satisfied with my explanations.</span> <span>His jaw worked harder and the lines in his forehead deepened as the night wore on. </span><span>My </span><span>stories opened the doors for new memories to worm their out. As the hours passed, </span><span>my eyelids grew heavier. Despite my two and half cups of coffee, I </span><span>drifted off with my head on his shoulder and his arm looped around my waist.</span></p><p>
  <span>The next few nights passed much the same, and I woke the next few mornings in bed wrapped around his body. </span>
  <span>He was the only person who could </span>
  <span>ever</span>
  <span> move me like that without waking me. </span>
  <span>I had a vague recollection of being jostled awake, followed by his smooth, deep voice </span>
  <span>calming me back to sleep before I even really woke. The whole thing was surreal. This life we’d built together was impossible. </span>
  <span>Neither of us should have been able to have a house, much less a home </span>
  <span>and hobbies and </span>
  <span>wants. </span>
  <span>In the decades we knew each other before, we didn’t dare want for anything. </span>
  <span>Our dreams were only crushed to dust time and again. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But standing in our new apartment in Bucharest, </span>
  <span>anything seemed possible.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>It's</span>
  <span> not much, but we </span>
  <span>only need it a few </span>
  <span>days</span>
  <span> a month</span>
  <span>.” </span>
  <span>He </span>
  <span>wrapped up his tour and turned to me with wide eyes. “Do you like it?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>How long have you been planning this?” I looked over the </span>
  <span>rundown, studio apartment.</span>
  
  
</p><p><span>It certainly wasn’t much, but it was more than we needed.</span> <span>We could make do with </span><span>a tent in the woods. We were trained to survive, not thrive.</span></p><p><span>He shrugged sheepishly. “Since you mentioned </span><span>Piaţa</span> <span>Agronomiei</span><span>.”</span></p><p>
  <span>I smirked at him and waved toward the corner. “We could put a bed over there.”</span>
  
  
</p><p><span>A</span><span>lthough, we probably couldn’t afford a bed frame. </span><span>The money we managed to smuggle in was tied up in our house</span><span>, and we didn’t make much at the local market.</span> <span>Bucharest had more tourists, </span><span>so the new market was bound to bring more money.</span></p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>If </span>
  <span>we do well, maybe we can find a better plac</span>
  <span>e.” He chipped away at the flaking paint and scuffed his toe over the bare floor. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Yasha</span>
  <span>,” I crossed the room quickly and laid a hand on his shoulder, “</span>
  <span>everything we have is better.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded and smiled sadly. “How about we go check out the market.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m starving.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The market was huge, easily twice the size of our local </span>
  <span>one</span>
  <span>. </span>
  <span>A variety of aromas mixed in the air, creating a delicious medley of fresh foods. </span>
  <span>The further we wandered, the more my heart pounded. I couldn’t possibly keep up. </span>
  <span>Sensing my unease, James squeezed my hand softly and pressed a kiss into my temple, letting his lips linger over the spot. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been working on your </span>
  <span>afinată</span>
  <span> for twenty years. </span>
  <span>These vendors have nothing on you.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>I took a deep breath and smiled at him, turning to return the kiss.</span> <span>A face in the crowd caught my</span><span> attention </span><span>before it vanished </span><span>behind a stand. It was the third time I saw him today.</span> <span>My senses kicked into high gear, processing every </span><span>sight, sound, and smell in my immediate vicinity. The crowd pressed in, blocking </span><span>exits. </span><span>Children raced through a clearing to my left, squealing </span><span>with laughter. </span><span>Birds dipped between stands, looking for scraps to snap up.</span></p><p>
  <span>James squared his shoulders and surveyed the area before whispering, “</span>
  <span>What is it?”</span>
  
</p><p><span>“Someone’s following us.” I glanced nervously over my shoulder, but found nothing suspicious. “I’m certain I saw him at the train station and</span> <span>the bakery </span><span>this</span><span> morning.”</span></p><p>
  <span>His jaw locked, and he spun around to face me, peering </span>
  <span>innocently over my shoulder. </span>
  <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>James.” </span>
  <span>My</span>
  <span> glare cut </span>
  <span>sideways as I scanned the crowd again.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” he sighed, raising his hands, “let</span>
  <span>’</span>
  <span>s get out of here.</span>
  <span> Somewhere less crowded.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>We strolled through a nearby park before weaving through a few </span><span>shops downtown. Finally, after an hour</span><span> or</span><span> two of aimless wandering, we headed back to our apartment.</span> <span>I barely closed the door behind us when a knock rang out.</span><span> James threw a puzzled look over his shoulder as he </span><span>set our bags from the market on the counter. </span><span>I waved at him to start cooking and turned back to the door.</span></p><p>
  <span>I hoped I was only seeing things. But the man at the door confirmed my earlier </span>
  <span>suspicions</span>
  <span>.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Who the hell are you?” I slammed him against the wall and </span>
  <span>drew</span>
  <span> the knife from </span>
  <span>my belt. “And what do you want with us?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He coughed breath back into his lungs and held his hands up, palms out.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy.” James pulled me back gently. “He’s a friend – or something like that.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>“</span><span>Кто</span> <span>он</span><span>?” </span><span>My nostrils flared as I turned to James.</span></p><p>
  <span>He slipped easily into Russian. </span>
  <span>“I don’t know exactly. He was with Steve in DC.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>But you don’t know him?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Not directly, no</span>
  <span>. But I trust –"</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all</span>
  <span>,” I whispered harshly. “You don’t know Steve </span>
  <span>anymore. How you can you be so sure you can still </span>
  <span>tru</span>
  <span>-”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I am.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His shout made me stumble back a step. </span>
  <span>“Well, I’m not,” I growled. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve,” the man </span>
  <span>interrupted, looking between us with wide eyes, “you know Steve. He sent me.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome to leave while we talk.” James snapped at me</span>
  <span>, continuing in Russian as if the man hadn’t spoken.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You think I’m leaving you alone with him?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care what you do</span>
  <span>. I’m going to hear him out.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I clenched my jaw and ground my teeth. “Who are you?” </span>
  <span>My eyes never left James’s face.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Sam,” he blurted after a moment, “Sam Wilson. </span>
  <span>I’m friends with Steve. He asked me to find you.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I glared at James and retreated to a corner across the apartment.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And what does Steve want?” James </span>
  <span>leaned against the counter between the kitchen and dining area.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s worried about you.” Wilson’s shoulders </span>
  <span>relaxed</span>
  <span> as he glance</span>
  <span>d</span>
  <span> toward me. “Although, it looks like you’re doing fine to me.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine is relative.” James fold</span>
  <span>ed </span>
  <span>his arms across his chest, pulling his shirt taut over his shoulders.</span>
  <span> “</span>
  <span>You’re here to bring me home.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilson’s tongue</span>
  <span> darted over his lips as he considered the statement. “I’m here to ask.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>This was it. </span>
  <span>He’d been digging into his past since DC. He wanted to be </span>
  <span>Bucky Barnes more than anything. The problem was, I didn’t know Bucky Barnes. I wasn’t </span>
  <span>a part of that piece of him. And I didn’t know how to fit in with it.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>James nodded slowly before straightening up. “No.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I swallowed the lump in my throat, certain the ringing in my ears had </span>
  <span>distorted his answer.</span>
  
</p><p><span>“</span><span>Hey, </span><span>Barnes,</span> <span>I get it,” Wilson stepped forward, talking with his hands, “you need some time to straighten things out. I told Steve not to expect you to be ready for –”</span></p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need time</span>
  <span>.” </span>
  <span>James cast me a longing </span>
  <span>look</span>
  <span>. “</span>
  <span>I need to start over.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilson </span>
  <span>looked between the two of us</span>
  <span>, a smirk playing at his lips. </span>
  <span>“Yeah,” </span>
  <span>he nodded, “</span>
  <span>yeah. Alright.</span>
  <span>”</span>
  <span> He reached for the door and opened it slowly.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t</span>
  <span> –</span>
  <span>” James paused, waiting for Wilson to look at him, “</span>
  <span>Don’t tell Steve. Please.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilson’s brow </span>
  <span>furrowed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I just – I’m not the kid Steve knew in Brooklyn.” </span>
  <span>James </span>
  <span>toed at the floor before looking back up. “I don’t know how to be what he wants from me, you know?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>After a beat of silence, Wilson g</span>
  <span>ave </span>
  <span>a curt nod and shut the door behind him.</span>
  <span> We stared at each other for </span>
  <span>another long moment, neither making a sound.</span>
  <span> He made the first move, taking a silent step toward me. </span>
  <span>I mirrored him, and slowly we closed the space between us.</span>
  <span> One hand wrapped around my hip, the other cupping my face. </span>
  <span>My fingers </span>
  <span>twirled in his hair as his forehead met mine.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” His voice was barely a whisper. </span>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to yell at you.”</span>
  
</p><p><span>I nodded</span><span>, tracing my fingertips along his jaw. </span><span>His stubble scratched at </span><span>the pads of my</span> <span>fingers,</span><span> and I pressed harder, so I could feel his skin. </span><span>His </span><span>lips</span> <span>skimmed </span><span>over my cheek and down my neck.</span> <span>I nuzzled into the crook of his neck, wrapping my arms </span><span>around him. </span><span>He </span><span>was </span><span>rugged and </span><span>stale</span><span> – dirty.</span> <span>Lifetimes of cigarette smoke and </span><span>gunpowder</span> <span>had </span><span>worked its</span><span> way </span><span>into his </span><span>very </span><span>essence</span><span>.</span> <span>Blood from countless bodies seeped into his skin over the years.</span><span> Leather that he hadn’t worn in months</span><span>, </span><span>motor oil </span><span>he hadn’t touched in longer</span><span>, antifreeze, </span><span>gasoline,</span><span> C-4 – all</span> <span>rooted</span><span> so deep, they became </span><span>a part of him</span><span>.</span> <span>F</span><span>or decades, </span><span>his heady scent was the only </span><span>home I had. </span><span>There was comfort in it, security. </span><span>But</span><span> there was something new. A faint note of something that hadn’t been there before or, more likely, I hadn’t had time to notice before.</span></p><p><span>“I remember </span><span>how it felt.” His </span><span>eyelashes fluttered against my cheek. “</span><span>When they got angry, it was –”</span> <span>His </span><span>fingers </span><span>dug</span><span> into my hip</span><span>.</span></p><p>
  <span>I combed through his hair</span>
  <span> and whispered reassurances as he </span>
  <span>nose </span>
  <span>tickled along my jaw. “How do you know he won’t tell Steve where we are?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t,” he mumbled against my ear.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What if he does?” I took a step </span>
  <span>back </span>
  <span>to look him over. “What if he brings Steve back?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>”We’ll leave.</span>
  <span>” After a brief glance around the apartment, his gaze settled back on me. “Start over.”</span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Picking up some steam now. We're about to get going!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I laid across Yasha’s heaving chest with his arms wrapped around my bare back, my skin humming under his fingertips. Blood rushed through my ears, leaving the two of us suspended outside of reality. My eyes fluttered open as lips pressed into the top of my head.</p><p>“Well good morning to you, too.” His chuckle rasped out of a dry throat.</p><p>I propped myself up on my elbows and grinned at him, letting my eyes roam over his perfectly relaxed face. “It’s a great morning.”</p><p>“What did you have in mind for breakfast?” His eyes sparkled as he ran his fingers through the tangled mess of my hair.</p><p>“I handled entertainment.” I gently rolled to the side and traced my fingers over his chest. “Food is on you.”</p><p>A laugh rumbled from deep in his chest, and his arm tightened around my shoulders before he sat up. “You stay here and rest. I’ll bring breakfast back.” The sheets bunched at his waist, revealing the pronounced ridge of his hips. He shuddered when my fingers brushed over the outline of their own accord. “Just don’t expect anything comparable to your contribution to the morning.”</p><p>I smiled after him and pulled the blankets up to my chin, fighting back the chill in the air. His gentle scolding about staying put drifted through the walls as dishes clanged in the kitchen. As if I needed to be told. After the dizzy spell I had last week, I was taking every precaution. My last dose of the serum was at some point before my escape over twenty years ago. I didn’t want another infusion even if we could find the formula. But I hoped resting would give my cells time to regenerate the serum themselves. We both did.</p><p>When he found me blacked out near my raspberry bush, he almost lapsed into a flashback. I didn’t know what happened. I bent down to pick up my basket and woke up on the couch while Bucky rambled on about the Stark serum being stronger. His fingers curled in my hair as he promised to make me better. It took me hours to convince him I’d be fine, but I managed to talk him down. I’d felt like shit since that day.</p><p>My body ached. I couldn’t stay awake. Just the thought of eggs made my stomach turn. I was pretty sure I had the flu for the first time ever. I dragged a breath through my stuffed up nose and hoisted myself out of bed. I hated all the symptoms, but needing to pee every hour was my least favorite.</p><p>“I told you not to go anywhere,” James groaned, and the mattress creaked under his weight.</p><p>“Couldn’t help it.” I emerged from the bathroom and smirked at him. “I’m starting to feel better anyway.”</p><p>“No, you’re not.” He pulled my wrist until I sat beside him on the bed. “You need to get some food in you.”</p><p>He was right, and we both knew it. I was already getting lightheaded. I glanced at the bowl of soup on the nightstand and took a deep breath. The aroma alone steadied the room around me. The warm broth settled pleasantly in my stomach as I chewed the vegetables. I had to give him credit for finding something I could stomach.</p><p>His fingers tugged through my hair, catching in knots and drawing my attention. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?”</p><p>He shrugged, shaking stray hairs off his fingers. “After you go back to bed.”</p><p>“I’m not sleepy,” I countered, taking another bite. “We could watch some TV.”</p><p>He narrowed his eyes at me. “Fine, but when you’re done eating, you’re laying down.”</p><p>I passed him my bowl and trudged into the living room. I didn’t know how long it took to get over the flu, but I hoped for both our sakes it was soon. He worried too much, and I hated being a burden. It made us both too passive for our own good. Trained assassins needed to stay busy to stay alive. We would both die of boredom if I couldn’t leave the house soon.</p><p>“What do you want to watch?” He handed my bowl back as I settled on the couch.</p><p>I took a deep breath, letting the steam open my airways. The savory scent did wonders to clear my head. I slurped down another spoonful of steaming vegetables with a content hum. Nothing could dampen my day, not even the back cramps I felt coming on. We watched bad sci-fi movies while I finished eating. We always got a kick out of what the creators thought a cyborg might look like or how mind control worked. Somehow, watching it play out in such a grossly inaccurate way seemed to help James cope with the trauma.</p><p>As promised, I laid across the couch, and he gently massaged my lower back. He chuckled when I shirked away from the cool touch of his bionic hand and tickled the back of my neck. My squeals filled the house as I dodged his icy touch, falling off the couch in the process. Laughter rumbled from his chest as he scooped me into his thick arms and stretched out on the cushions, covering us both with a blanket. A shiver ran down my back when he tucked his hand into my side, but the titanium warmed quickly against my skin. His lips brushed across the back of my head, lulling my eyes closed. The soft tugging of his whiskers through my hair set my mind at ease.</p><p>Yasha shook me awake just as I was being dragged down the cold, dark corridor leading to the reset room. My chest heaved, and I squeezed my eyes shut to adjust to reality. His arms tightened around me, his steady heartbeat thumping against my ribs.</p><p>“It’s okay,” he breathed into my hair. “I’ve got you.”</p><p>I curled into him, pressing my entire body against his – something that, not too long ago, would have earned us both a bullet between the eyes. My fingers dug into his bare flesh, clinging to everything I had left. They wouldn’t take him from me again. My lungs collapsed with every breath, and I forced my eyes open.</p><p>James looked down at me, eyes swimming in concern. He didn’t ask. I didn’t speak. Something was off. I hadn’t had a nightmare in over a year. And this one was different somehow. I couldn’t place where I’d been before the reset room. It seemed like an exam room, but the equipment was far too advanced for anything Hydra used on us.</p><p>I nuzzled into Yasha's side and turned my attention back to the movie. His gaze bore through me until his body relaxed against me. I tugged the blanket up to my chin and ignored the sinking feeling in my gut. Try as I might, I couldn’t shake the nightmare.</p><p>Even still, I relaxed easily into our lazy day. Over a year had passed without incident from either side. If Hydra was still operational, they lacked either the resources or desire to locate us. And I was beginning to believe that Steve was never going to show up to talk James into returning to New York. With the looming threat of discovery removed, we quit looking over our shoulders and settled into our little farm. We even met a lovely family at the local market who took care of Ramsey when we visited Bucharest.</p><p>I dozed in and out for the remainder of the day, staying curled up on Yasha's chest. Soon, another nightmare tore through my subconscious. This time, James was the one being dragged away bruised and bloodied while I screamed from an isolation room. My chest clenched when I didn’t feel his heat near me. I bolted upright, gulping in the crisp air. Quiet rustling in the kitchen drew my focus, and I wrapped the blanket around myself before trudging toward the sound. I found James making a sandwich in sweats and realized I never managed to get dressed after breakfast. Clenching the blanket tighter around me, I shuffled into the kitchen and pressed myself against his back.</p><p>“You’re so cold.” I looped my arms around him, wrapping us both in the thick blanket.</p><p>He dropped his head to the side, nuzzling into my hair. “How did you sleep?”</p><p>“Fine until you left.”</p><p>“I didn’t eat all day.” He turned around, still in my arms and kissed the top of my head. “Do you feel better?”</p><p>I rested my chin on his bare chest and stared up at him. “I feel hungry.”</p><p>His chest rumbled with a chuckle. “You slept through lunch and almost dinner.” His hands slid around my waist to the small of my back as his worried eyes drifted over my face. “Turkey sandwich?”</p><p>Pushing onto my toes, I kissed the dimple in his chin. I winced slightly at the scratch of his stubble, but the warmth of his lips on my forehead stirred an ache in my core. His breath puffed over my hair as I traced the tip of my nose over his jaw. His musk made my head spin as I pulled his face to mine, our lips meeting for a long overdue reunion. My heart pounded in my ears while my body moved against his involuntarily. My hands roamed over his hips, and my tongue danced over his lips. His skin pressed against mine sending tingles through my fingertips. My teeth nipped at his bottom lip, making him smile against my mouth.</p><p>“What’s gotten into you?” He broke away panting.</p><p>I smirked, trailing my nails down his chest. “You.”</p><p>“Yes, I remember.” His cheeks flushed and the tip of his tongue swiped over his lips. “But that should have solved this problem, not created it.”</p><p>I dropped back, pressing my feet flat against the floor. “Is it a problem?”</p><p>“It’s not–” he took a deep breath, “a problem. I just–”</p><p>“Don’t want to.” I tried not to let my shoulders drop as I nodded. “It’s okay.”</p><p>And it was. I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t. Decades under Hydra had taught us both the value of a choice. And a memory. It wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about attraction or connection. It wasn’t a hidden message of contempt. It was just him, and I loved him.</p><p>In fact, we were typically on the same page. What happened in the bedroom was exactly that – what happened in the bedroom. It was a means to an end. Our connection came from common life experience and shared tragedy.</p><p>His hands fell from my hips, and his shoulders slumped. “Is that a problem?”</p><p>“James Barnes,” my head snapped up to his downcast eyes, and I tipped his chin up, “I have loved you for a century when I didn’t even know who you were. There is nothing you could do now to change that.”</p><p>His lips quirked up before he pressed a sweet kiss to my lips. His forehead met mine, his eyelashes fluttering against my brow bone. The tip of his nose nestled perfectly against mine, pressing into the curve of my cheek.</p><p>“It was always you that brought me back. Even in DC, I recognized Steve,” his breath ghosted over my lips, “but you were in my head. I went to the museum in a desperate attempt to remember you.”</p><p>I smiled into his scruff. “I will always find you.”</p><p>After another breath, he stepped away. “Did you want a turkey sandwich?”</p><p>“Do we have mustard?”</p><p>He nodded, brandishing a bottle from the countertop.</p><p>“Perfect.” I sidled up next to him and laid a plate on the counter. “What about the plum preserves?”</p><p>His eyebrows pulled together, as he turned to face me. “I think so.”</p><p>My feet shuffled over the cool flooring, and I took in a sharp breath as I opened the fridge. The preserves sat near the front of our mostly bare shelves. The pitcher of milk caught my eye as I shut the door, and I poured myself a glass.</p><p>James eyed the pitcher. “She needs dinner.”</p><p>I looked myself over, unwrapping the blanket to reveal my bare body. “Could you handle it?”</p><p>“You owe me.” He smirked over his shoulder as he opened the back door.</p><p>We settled on the couch for a classic monster movie while we ate dinner. James stared at me with disgusted confusion for the first half hour, and I savored every bite of my sandwich. The chocolate milk topped off my perfect meal. Setting our dishes to the side, I curled under Yasha’s arm and snuggled into his side for the remainder of the movie. When it was over, he supported my weight as I stumbled blearily to bed. His arms wrapped around me, his large biceps squeezing me tightly, as he laid down behind me.</p><p>A crushing pressure on my ribs dragged me from my dreams. A knee dug into my sternum, and a cold hand clenched around my throat. If the darkness hadn’t obscured my vision, it would closing in around the edges. As suddenly as it had jarred me awake, the pressure was gone. My gasping breath covered the stream of apologies next to me. His voice was hoarse coming out of a raw throat.</p><p>“It’s okay.” I turned on the lamp and whispered softly. “I’m okay.”</p><p>“It was –” His face contorted, features shifting abruptly from mortified to confused to apologetic. “I was in the movie.”</p><p>“Frankenstein?”</p><p>He nodded, swallowing hard. “But I wasn’t a monster. They just kept tearing me apart and putting me back together.”</p><p>He hunched forward, raking his fingers through his hair, and crossed his legs loosely. I rested a hand on his shuddering back, rubbing soft circles over his shoulder blade. His ragged breaths slowly normalized, but his eyes shut tighter.</p><p>“I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to stop them.” His breathy voice sent chills down my spine. “That’s when I woke up.”</p><p>“Maybe we’ll stick to baking shows before bed.”</p><p>He huffed out a quiet laugh and smirked at me through his hair. Without warning, he lunged sideways, tackling me to the bed. I yelped as the mattress bounced us both. He boxed me in with his arms and hovered over me. His smirk lowered to meet mine, and my breath caught in my throat.</p><p>“You still have a problem that needs solving?”</p><p>I grinned, nodding, and traced my fingertips along the curve of his jaw.</p><p>“Good.” H is eyes darkened as he buried his face in my neck, stubble scratching along my skin. “Because I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to sleep.”</p><p>His laughter broke through my squeal after he nipped at my neck. Before long, I was lost in a mess of our tangled limbs, unable to determine his arms from legs. Our bodies moved effortlessly together in perfect rhythm. I knew every inch of his body, and he knew exactly how to move. I couldn’t explain it because it didn’t come from practice, but somehow we both just knew how to make the other squirm until the whole scene devolved into animalistic desperation. The sounds he could draw from my mouth were altogether disgraceful. And his shameless grin greeted me every time my eyes fluttered open.</p><p>That night was the best sleep either of us had gotten since Hydra fell. We were free, and I was starting to feel better. For the first time, our lives fell into place. We had nothing to worry about except my berries and his goat. The night was finally the quiet place it always should have been.</p><p>The next morning, as I tugged a pair of jeans over my hips, my stomach did a somersault. “Shit.”</p><p>I raced into the bathroom and dug through the cabinets. I couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be the reason for my nightmares. But it was the only thing that made sense – the only time I’d seen that medical equipment or been put in isolation.</p><p>On all fours, I leaned under the sink, reaching as far as I could, and snatched a box from the back corner. I didn’t even know why I’d bought it two months ago. It just seemed like a good thing to have. As I waited, footsteps approached the door.</p><p>“Anya, what are y–” James opened the door and stopped short, glancing at the object in my hand. “Are – are you <em>pregnant</em>?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>The creases on his forehead deepened as he tipped his head to the side.</p><p>“Yet,” I clarified, setting the test on the counter. “It’s not – it hasn’t – I don’t –”  My watch alarm interrupted my rambling.</p><p>We stared at each other for a moment before stepping up to the counter.</p><p>“What does that mean?” He stared down at the results window.</p><p>I read the box and passed it to him, my heart dropping.</p><p>His eyes scanned the diagrams and a grin broke over his face. “You’re pregnant.” His arms wrapped around my legs, and he spun me around.</p><p>I couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up in my chest as he set me down. “You’re not upset?”</p><p>“Why would I be upset?” he laughed, cupping my face with both hands and dropping his forehead to mine. “This is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I came back from the dead twice.”</p><p>I shook my head, still smiling. “You’ve never died.”</p><p>“Tell that to the Army.” He pulled back, and his fingers brushed over my temples, pushing my hair back into place. “Why would you think I’d be upset?”</p><p>“We never talked about it.” I shrugged, tears welling up. “I thought you didn’t–”</p><p>He rubbed a tear off my cheek with his thumb, quickly drying it off on the leg of his pants. “I want to do everything with you.”</p><p>His forehead pressed to mine, and tears leaked steadily from the corners of my eyes. My hand dropped instinctively, my palm warm against my stomach. His hand covered mine, making me shiver. His other hand wiped at my cheeks, his skin on mine leaving tingles in its wake.</p><p>“This is our chance to give the world something good.” His nose skimmed over mine.</p><p>I took a deep breath and pulled away to look into his eyes. “We don’t owe this world anything.”</p><p>“Okay,” he whispered, his lips a breath away from mine. He leaned in, but pulled away suddenly. “Are you still hungry? I’ll make a second breakfast.”</p><p>I stole the kiss he’d withheld and smirked. “Only for you.”</p><p>Locks of hair fell into his face as he shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?”</p><p>“Something soon, I hope.” I studied his face, and my shoulders fell. “It’s okay. I can handle it.”</p><p>He kissed my cheek and nuzzled into my neck before stepping back. “If this is your new normal, we’ll talk about it. I promise.”</p><p>I nodded and traced over his jaw line before turning on the shower. “I know.”</p><p>After a steamy shower, I slipped into my jeans and stole a long sleeve shirt from James. I found him lounging on the couch with two steaming mugs of what smelled like spices cider on the side table. He sprung to his feet when the floor creaked under me. He held one of the mugs out to me sheepishly.</p><p>“So, you’re not sick?”</p><p>I smirked at the flush in his cheeks. “Just pregnant.”</p><p>His lips quirked into a smile. “I thought this might help you feel better either way.” He snatched the mug back just as my fingers touched the ceramic. “Wait, you can’t –“ He glanced between the drinks and took a sip of mine, shaking his head. “This one’s mine.”</p><p>I raised an eyebrow at him, but he only shrugged in response.</p><p>“I think we should move to the city.”</p><p>His forehead creased as he took a long gulp. “Why?”</p><p>I chuckled at the hint of brandy on his breath. “The medical care is better. In case –” I looked into my mug and tapped my nails against the side. “In case something happens. Not that they would know what to do with me.”</p><p>“What about Ramsey?”</p><p>I gave him a sad smile. “We’ll have to sell her.”</p><p>“What about your garden?” James led me to the couch and sat down.</p><p>I shrugged. “We can get fresh fruit from the Piaţa Agronomiei for my afinată.”</p><p>His face softened as he looked me over. “But you worked so hard on it.”</p><p>“It’ll be here for whoever moves in next.” I rested my hand on my stomach, letting my fingers glide over the fabric of my shirt. “But if something goes wrong –”</p><p>“It won’t. You’re a super-soldier. I’m a super-soldier.” His lips pressed into my hairline, radiating heat over my temple. “But if it will make you feel better, we will.”</p><p>“Yasha,” I let out a breath and locked eyes with him, “are you sure you’re ready for this?”</p><p>“I told you, this is the best thing that’s happened to me.”</p><p>“But can you really handle it?” Tears coated my lashes as my eyelids fluttered. “I mean, you’ve been doing well. I just – I can’t lose you again.”</p><p>He smiled softly and pulled me into his chest. “Родная, nothing could pull me away from you.” After kissing my hair, he tucked my head under his chin and hummed quietly.</p><p>I sat still for a moment, letting the rise and fall of his chest ease my mind. I let several breaths pass before reaching for my mug of cider. Hopefully the warmth would soothe the knot in my stomach. It only took two more sips for me to realize there was more than a knot in there. My gut lurched, and I clamped a hand over my mouth. I shoved James away and bounded across the room.</p><p>James rushed after me apologizing for the cider. I bent over the toilet, heaving my breakfast back up. My hair tickled my neck while James brushed it out of my face. The spices burned my raw throat as I coughed the last of the bile into the dirty water.</p><p>I cut off Yasha's latest apology with a wave of my hand before wiping my mouth. “It’s not your fault. I’m pregnant.”</p><p>“It better be my fault.” He took me by the chin smirking and tapped my nose.</p><p>I grinned back and shrugged sheepishly. “I could use a snack though.”</p><p>He broke into a full grin. “Anything you want.”</p><p>“Chocolate milk and bacon?”</p><p>“That’s not so bad.” He turned to the door.</p><p>“With cheese and olives.”</p><p>He stopped short and turned around slowly, chuckling. “Anything else? Maybe a fruit cake?”</p><p>I smirked looking at my feet and shook my head.</p><p>“Alright.” He padded into the bedroom and slipped into his black sneakers. “You coming to the store with me?”</p><p>“Sure, fresh air would be –” A bubbling in my stomach cut me off. I choked back a gag, covering my mouth anyway. “Maybe I should stay.”</p><p>James pinched his eyebrows together and tightened his lips. “Are you sure you’ll be okay without me?”</p><p>“It’s just morning sickness.” I smiled sweetly and shooed him out. “Hurry back.”</p><p>I made my way to the living room slowly, trying not to jostle myself much. No sooner did I sit down than my feet started aching. The scratchy fabric scraped at my bare legs as I swiveled to prop my feet on the couch. The new position sent a twinge up my back. I’d been pregnant a total of two hours and already missed the flu. I didn’t dwell on the discomfort long. After turning on the TV and selecting the perfect true crime show to stream, I drifted off easily.</p><p>I was woken from a dead, dreamless sleep by a churning in the pit of my stomach. Unfortunately for our carpet, the churning left my stomach much sooner than I anticipated. And of course, James walked through the door just in time  to hear the best part. His hand rested on the nape neck, his cool metal fingers scraping through my hairline, cooling the fever in my skin. Spurred by the revelation, I pressed my own titanium palm to my cheek.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” I panted, pushing myself off the wall.</p><p>His fingers combed quickly through my hair, now matted with sweat. “No, no, no. It’s okay. I’m not angry.” He pressed the palm of his flesh hand to my forehead, quickly flipping it over to touch my head with the back of his hand. “No fever. Just a hot flash.”</p><p>I nodded weakly and wiped at the corners of my mouth.</p><p>His hands scooped under my elbows, and he walked me to the couch. “I’ll get you some ice and clean up.”</p><p>The door of the freezer pulled open, and the ice bin scraped over the shelf. Cubes clinked into a glass, and the freezer thudded closed. Soon, James returned to my side with a cup of ice water. I held it to the side of my face for a moment before taking a sip.</p><p>The crisp, clean taste cleared my mind. My eyes opened to see James crouching in front of me. His finger trailed over my cheek, cooling my skin to a chill.</p><p>“Feel better?”</p><p>I nodded, taking another sip of water. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Your cheese is on the counter if you still want it.” He calmly turned back to the hallway with a deep breath, carrying rags and cleaner.</p><p>A gag drifted from the hallway, followed by another soon after. I snickered at his mutterings and reclined on the couch, rubbing my back. It didn’t take long for James to clean up the mess. After he brought the rags to the laundry room, he settled at my feet, taking them into his lap.</p><p>His fingers dug softly into the arch of one foot with ever so slightly mismatched pressure. My eyes fell shut while I let out a sigh. His hands worked over each of my feet, tugging lightly at my toes, then moved up to my calves. The pressure was perfect, working through my tight muscles at a soothing pace.</p><p>“How did this happen?”</p><p>I lifted my head to find James focused on his hands. “Well, Yasha, when a man and a woman–”</p><p>He rolled his eyes, but let out a quiet chuckle. “The Soldiers–” He squeezed his eyes shut, pausing briefly. “The female Soldiers were–”</p><p>“Everything can be reversed,” I sighed dully. “I wasn’t sure I could though. I’m still not, really.”</p><p>His eyebrows pinched together, and his eyes opened slowly. “Well, you are.”</p><p>My mind raced through the years, and I took a long breath. “If history is any indication, I won’t stay that way.”</p><p>His lips pursed, and his eyes closed while his brow furrowed. “You’ve been pregnant?”</p><p>I nodded, eyes locked on him. “It was awful.”</p><p>“You didn’t– But why–” The heels of his hands pressed into his forehead, fingers knotting in his hair.</p><p>“An attempt at a natural born super-soldier.” I drew the side of my cheek between my teeth and shook the chill out of my spine. “After you cage the animals, you breed them.”</p><p>His hand balled into fists in his lap, his metal hand groaning with the strain. His jaw locked, and his lips twitched. I swallowed hard, the usually comfortable silence now stifling. His hands only relaxed to rub his temples as his eyes closed tighter.</p><p>“Who?” he barely managed to growl.</p><p>“All of them probably.” My face softened as I slowly pulled his hands from his face. “Including you.”</p><p>His chest stuttered. “Yeah?”</p><p>I hummed pleasantly. “Once.”</p><p>The wrinkles in his forehead deepened, and his tongue ran over his lips. His eyes darted aimlessly over his hands so quickly I was certain steam would pour from his ears at any second. His breath kept time with the ping of the first few drops of a storm on the window. Hay rustled against the side of the house as Ramsey settled down for the night.</p><p>“What happened?”</p><p>I brushed the stray locks from his face and tucked them gently behind his ear. “They wiped you immediately after, but it didn’t matter. When you saw me, you knew.”</p><p>A faint smile ghosted his face before his lips turned back down.</p><p>“You nearly tore the compound apart trying to get back to me.” My fingers combed through his soft, brown hair, coming to rest along his cheeks. “There were rumors you literally slammed my handler through a wall. They found you in the rubble with your hand around his throat.”</p><p>“Good.” His nostrils flared under his burning eyes. “I should have snapped his neck when I had a chance.”</p><p>I chuckled softly, skimming my fingertips along his jaw. His gaze settled on the window behind me, studying the splatter of water against the panes. A rumble of distant thunder drew him back to himself.</p><p>“Wait,” he took a sharp breath, “did you – what happened to–”</p><p>My hands fell to his instinctively, my fingers winding through his. “It never took.”</p><p>His hands spread over my belly as his face fell. I fluttered my lashes, moisture sticking them together. His cool knuckles gliding over my cheek drew my attention and a soft smile.</p><p>“I never wanted it to.” I laid my bionic hand over his on my stomach, the slight pressure registering faintly and calming my brain. “Not there. It was –"</p><p>“We’ll move to the city,” he whispered under his breath. “I’ll give the landlord notice in the morning.”</p><p>I mouthed a thank you with my voice stuck in my throat. There wasn’t a medical team in the world prepared for a super-soldier pregnancy. But it would make me feel better.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments? I could definitely use some feedback on this one.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took us three weeks to move our things into storage. We’d stay in our apartment until we found a house. It would have only taken two weeks if James would have let me help. But my job was to decorate the new house, and I wasn’t allowed to lift anything heavier than a carton of eggs. He was adamant, and I didn’t fight too much.</p><p>I turned over in the dark, sinking back into the mattress. It was too small for both of us, so I wiggled my way back to press against Yasha’s chest. Even with his legs curled to mine, his feet hung over the bottom edge. My knees brushed over the cold floor any time James moved despite his back being wedged against the wall, and it took four blankets to cover us both. I tugged one of the covers to my chin and sunk into my shoulders. We were saving every penny for a house and never turned the heat on. With the bare walls and empty room, it almost reminded me of the Hydra compound. But nothing could ever be that cold.</p><p>James stirred behind me, letting out a distressed moan. I stilled, listening to his mumbled terror. His chest heaved, and his erratic breath blew over my neck. The steamy puffs raised chills across my frigid skin. As his mutterings grew more desperate, my stomach tightened. I shifted cautiously as his grip tightened around my side.</p><p>“Yasha.” I stroked his face softly, repeating his name.</p><p>His eyes flew open, and he sucked in a sharp breath, tossing me across the floor. My hip hit the plank flooring with a smack, followed immediately by my shoulder. I skidded to a stop, gasping for air.</p><p>“Anya, I –” He dropped to his knees in front of me, stopping short of touching my face. “I’m so sorry. I was – I didn’t- God, I’m so sorry.” His fingers tugged desperately at the roots of his hair.</p><p>I pushed myself to my knees, rubbing my stomach in a steady rhythm.</p><p>“Are you okay?” His voice barely made a sound. “Is – how’s –” He nodded toward my wandering hands.</p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p>I steadied myself with his shoulders as I stood. The room seemed smaller now than thirty seconds ago. I eased myself to the mattress and crossed my legs over each other, motioning for James to join me. Hair fell over his face as he shook his head.</p><p>“Yasha.”</p><p>Silence weighed down the darkness as he stared at his hands.</p><p>“James.” I patted the mattress softly. “Please.”</p><p>His bare feet moved silently over the floor – deliberately taking their time. When he reached the corner, he hovered near the wall, toeing at the cracks in the flooring. Completely still, he took a deep, shuddering breath and collapsed next me.</p><p>“I could kill you.” His elbows rested on his knees, hands cradling his head. “Both of you.”</p><p>I ran my fingers up his jaw and through his oily hair.</p><p>“You’re not going to kill anybody.” His skin was clammy against my flesh hand. “He’s not in charge. You are.”</p><p>His eyelids fluttered, neither open nor closed, and his tongue swiped over his lips. “Sometimes I just –”</p><p>“I’ve known you both.” I turned his face toward me, my palms pressing flat against his cheeks. “You are stronger than him, James Barnes. And you will win every time.”</p><p>After a few breaths, I leaned against the wall and pulled him into my chest, wrapping my arms around him. My fingers caught in his knots as I raked my nails over his scalp then scratched through his beard and started over. His hair caught between the titanium plates at my knuckles, but the tugging didn’t faze him. Slowly, he adjusted his weight, settling comfortably against me. He nuzzled into my chest, nose brushing along my collarbone through his thick shirt. The icy silence that swallowed me whole moments ago now wrapped its arms around us like a handmade quilt.</p><p>“I never want to sleep again.” His gruff voice startled me from a doze.</p><p>I hummed in agreement, twirling a chocolate lock around my finger. “I don’t think that’s an option.”</p><p>Straightening up, he drew his bottom lip between his teeth. “How can I protect you when I can’t even control myself?”</p><p>My chest tightened as I kneeled behind him. His muscles rippled under my touch, my fingers brushing over his back. My hands slid under his arms and around his chest, so I could rest my chin on his shoulder. His hair tickled my cheek, and his sigh puffed over my nose.</p><p>“You should get some rest.”</p><p>I tightened my grip and buried my face in his neck to fight off the chill. “I’m with you.”</p><p>My skin tingled where his fingers twirled in my hair. The crook of his arm cradled the back of my head, and my body relaxed into his. The soft, mechanical whir in his deltoid drowned out my thoughts. I didn’t know how much time had passed when he pulled me into his lap and draped a blanket over his shoulders.</p><p>“I love you,” he breathed against the hinge of my jaw.</p><p>I smiled up at him, bleary-eyed, and barely caught his chuckle.</p><p>The restless night led to a very long morning. I pressed a hand against my lower back as we strolled through the market, leaning heavily on Yasha’s arm. “That mattress is killing me.”</p><p>“We’ll get the frame out of storage tomorrow,” he chuckled pressing a kiss to my lips, “Are you sure you’re okay to keep looking?”</p><p>I wasn’t even showing yet, and I was exhausted. We spent the day driving through residential areas and deciding where we wanted to live. It was hard for either of us to be comfortable anywhere in the city. The streets were always crowded, and there was never an easy exit.</p><p>“I just need to sit down a minute.” I nodded and led him to a bench along the street. “Would you mind grabbing some plums? I need to get another batch of brandy started.”</p><p>“Of course.” With a quick peck on my cheek, he headed back to the market, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t leave without me.”</p><p>I giggled to myself, running a hand over my belly. I shrugged my purse off my shoulder and slumped against the back of the bench. This was happening. We were having a baby, buying a house. Settling down. We were going to be a family.</p><p>Fabric wrinkled and bunched as my fingers traced shapes absently on my tummy. A few squirrels skittered around under a tree across the street, their emergence a sure sign of the changing seasons. A crisp breeze fluttered the budding leaves on the bare branches and stirred the dried-out grass. I tucked my chin to my chest, warming the tip of my nose in my bundled scarf. The warmth of the sun strengthened with each day, but the titanium fused at my shoulder bled heat. Despite my thick sweater, a chill ran down my spine.</p><p>A knot formed in the pit of my stomach, and not the kind I was used to. My skin prickled, hair standing on end, as my ears picked up the murmuring around me. Couples and small groups gathered near a paper stand on the corner, whispering furiously. I slipped the strap of my bag over my head, adjusting the satchel at my hip, and heaved myself off the bench. As I made my way down the sidewalk, a news broadcast drifted out of the open window of a car stopped at the light.</p><p>“…James Buchanan Barnes…American assassin…still at large…”</p><p>My heart slammed into my ribs, shoving the air from my lungs. I calmly took my phone from my purse and steadied my voice. “Hey, where are you?”</p><p>There was probably no one listening, but better safe than dead. Wrapping up my made-up phone call, I turned in a wide arc to head toward the market. My eyes scanned the bustling crowd, unrest spreading slowly through their ranks. We had to move – get underground. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but they needed a scapegoat, and we got screwed. The air stung my lungs with every labored breath. My legs ached to race down the street and dive into Yasha’s arms. But I had to act normal, draw no attention. My skin buzzed, and blood pounded through my ears. He was nowhere in sight.</p><p>My stomach tightened, and my head swam. My only clear thought was “get out.” A light touch at my elbow made me flinch, but lips at the hinge of my jaw calmed my nerves. Steady breaths blew over my skin as a nose brushed along my neck.</p><p>“We have to go.”</p><p>Cupping his head with my hand, I nodded. “What happened?”</p><p>“Someone blew up the UN building in Vienna.” His whisper shook as he pulled back slightly. “The whole world is hunting me.”</p><p>My fingers laced through his as I studied his strained expression. “I guess it’s a good thing we’re the most elite task force in history.”</p><p>“I need to get our go bag.” His lips tightened. “You have to go now.”</p><p>My face went slack before hardening. “I’m going with you.”</p><p>“No,” he ushered me down the street to a bus stop, “you can’t.”</p><p>My nostrils flared, and my teeth clenched so tight they chattered. “Why no–?”</p><p>“You know goddamn well.”</p><p>“I’ll be fine.”</p><p>“And <em>you </em>might be.” His face softened as he drew his thumb over my cheek. “We both know that’s not the problem.”</p><p>My vision blurred as my throat closed. “I can’t lose you again.”</p><p>“You won’t.” He nodded toward the approaching bus and dropped his wallet into my purse. “Follow the plan. I’ll find you the minute it’s safe.”</p><p>I bit my bottom lip and tugged the brim of his ball cap down, covering his face in shadow. A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, not quite brightening his eyes. His hand pressed into the small of my back, urging me toward the curb. With a final breath, my chest heaved, and I slipped into the small crowd near the bus doors. In the thick of the pack, I yanked the tie from my hair, letting it cascade over my shoulders, and ducked away from the entrance at the last second. I continued along the length of the bus, glancing over my shoulder at the back corner.</p><p>He was gone with no sign of him left behind. My chest clenched, squeezing a whimper up my throat while I scurried across the street. After another block, I dropped my scarf and cell phone in a trashcan and pushed my sleeves up to my elbows. I passed the Arch of Triumph and headed to the train station on foot – no paper trails. As usual, the station was filled with shady characters and panicked tourists waiting in line for a last-minute ticket. I pushed around them, earning a handful of curses and a slew of dirty looks. I shrugged and spouted out Romanian insults, apologizing in thickly accented, broken English. After paying cash for a ticket under my Romanian name, I rushed through the concourse to board my train to Ukraine.</p><p>During the ride, I sorted through the resources in my purse – a few different passports, some snacks, and enough cash in seven different currencies to last a month. When I arrived, I found the nearest motel and made a reservation for three nights. After that, I tracked down the first hotel in the phonebook with an “L" in the name and reserved a room for the night as Ilyana Antonov. I spent enough time in the room to burn Yasha’s documents in the bathroom trashcan and check the news. Snippets of videos showed the chase – James followed closely by Steve and Wings, then Cat-Man and local police. I read the headline declaring his capture and took off again. After buying lunch from a street vendor, I returned to the station and boarded a westbound train. I rushed straight to my sleeper car and slammed the door shut before punching the solid wooden door to the bathroom.</p><p>The lengthy ride from Kiev gave me time to unwind and piece my thoughts back together. I couldn’t stop moving. They had him, but I had to stick to our contingency plan. I had no idea how long I spent pacing the floor of my space, but it wasn’t brief. When I was satisfied with my strategy for the following days, I reclined on the fold out bed and let the rhythmic jostle of the train lull me to sleep. The minute I debarked the train, I found a bus to cross the next border. I burned my Romanian passport in the bathroom at the back and washed the ashes down the toilet. When I arrived in Switzerland, I eased my pace, allowing myself time to buy new clothes and a box of hair dye. I couldn’t keep pushing myself to the edge.</p><p>I took the scenic route around the country, again reserving myself a sleeper car. The privacy gave me time to strip my hair of its natural espresso and replace it with a honey red color. I hated it, but it would give a hard time to anyone looking for me. I considered cutting it when I found a place to lie low. I bought a newspaper at the first stop and grinned to myself when I saw Yasha’s picture on the front page. My German was rusty, but I could read enough to know he’d escaped CIA custody. Unfortunately, Rogers and Wilson had too. It would complicate his return, but Yasha was resourceful. I had no doubts that he would lose them as well. It was only a matter of time.</p><p>With that news, I made my way to Lucerne and rented a small, furnished apartment, starting over as Alina Liechty. He would find me when he lost the authorities and ditched the tag-alongs. I just had to settle in and wait. And find some goddamn food. I’d made minimal contact with anyone since I left,  which meant surviving on the jerky and granola I had in my bag. At six weeks pregnant, that was torture and probably dangerous. I started getting foggy headed yesterday afternoon, and my energy was fading fast. I needed a hearty meal and a nap. Unfortunately, the meal made me sick, and I couldn’t sleep by myself. My mind ran rampant with thoughts of James on the run alone. The videos I’d seen on the news played on repeat.</p><p>The way they shoved him to the ground like an animal made my blood boil. He wasn’t armed. He didn’t fight them. He was more submissive than Rogers, and only one of them walked away freely. They were as bad as our Hydra handling team. They treated us like wild animals, predators out of control. Trapped us. Subdued us. Muzzled us. Poked and prodded us to perfrom for them. Then whined when their hand got bit.</p><p>They were pathetic cowards. All of them. And it pissed me off knowing there wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do about it. If I’d stayed with him, we’d both be in the clear right now. Maybe with an extra hole or two, but clear nonetheless. I knew I should’ve stayed.</p><p>Right on cue, another wave of nausea passed through me, reminding me why I couldn’t. Nothing mattered more than this. He would manage on his own and find us. Soon, we’d all be together again, starting over in a new place with new names. I just needed to be patient. Which was hard to do when every news outlet around me was circulating Yasha’s picture. The whole world wanted to bring him in.</p><p>I had time to read up on the attack in Vienna while I traveled. It was no surprise why so many resources had been devoted to his capture. The UN was a prime target for any terrorist attack, constantly flooded with high value targets. The explosion killed high profile individuals from four different countries and wounded leaders from more. James was never cleared of his association with Hydra. It was entirely possible that he still worked for them. Or working alone to hurt the people who abandoned him during the war. Or simply because chaos and destruction was all he knew – a fine tuned machine doesn’t forget its job. The theory didn’t matter. The world media would indulge any conspiracy that brought in numbers. The world governments didn’t care what anyone thought as long as they brought him in.</p><p>When I managed to fall asleep, I woke to nightmares of James being detained at the border or recaptured by the remnants of Hydra. The odds were not in our favor. They never were. We let ourselves get caught up in a dream. Now, reality caught up with us, and I may never see him again. He may never meet his child.</p><p>My chest tightened, and my throat closed. I looked at the ceiling, fluttering my eyelids, and avoiding the television. Stark's pleading with Steve and promises to help Barnes turned to accusations from INTERPOL to requests for information on their whereabouts. The monotony of it all grated on every nerve. I had to get out of this room.</p><p>The days we’d been apart weighed on me as I walked down the street. We’d spent enough time apart to last a lifetime or more. I hated it. And I hated not knowing what was happening to him because I knew it wasn’t good. I could only hope Steve was as loyal as all the stories said. He was Yasha’s only hope.</p><p>A news broadcast in a café window stopped me in my tracks. An airport in Germany had been evacuated with sightings of Rogers and Stark. I could only hope James wasn’t with him. It was too much too ask. Reports of the Winter Soldier came in as I raced inside to hear the story. I pushed through the crowd toward the television, the chatter I expected conspicuously absent. A snarl escaped my lips as the anchors detailed the “rampage” through the CIA, stirring up murmurs around me. My skin crawled listening to the vicious comments. If they had a clue of half what we were capable of, they would understand. This wasn’t a rampage; it was a mission.</p><p>But it didn’t matter to them. To the rest of the world, his past defined him. It didn’t matter that he had no choice. It didn’t matter that he’d been beaten in ways they couldn’t imagine. It only mattered that he was a Winter Soldier. If they knew my name, they’d hate me too.</p><p>But somehow Rogers evaded the passionate outbursts. There wasn’t a single disparaging remark about him in the whole crowd. Even those who disapproved of his recent actions still admired him. Nothing could knock the man from his pedestal.</p><p>My eyes widened as the news broke. Several of Rogers’s men had been arrested, including Wilson. The clash caused millions of dollars in damages, not to mention the lives it endangered. Stark’s closest friend had been gravely injured, and James would be blamed for that too. It didn’t matter the role he played, everything that happened at the airport was his fault. Everything that happened from the moment he set foot outside our apartment was his fault. Not the one who chased him. Not the one who caged him. Not the one who couldn’t let him go. After everything we did to stay hidden, they drug us back into the fight and then blamed us for it.</p><p>We just wanted to be left alone.</p><p>That was all. My hand dropped to my belly, while I blinked the moisture from my eyes. We just wanted to live.</p><p>There was no mention of Yasha in the news. My heart fluttered at the thought of his possible escape. They couldn’t admit he’d slipped through their fingers again.  My chest tightened, my mind filling with thoughts of his probable imprisonment. They just didn't want the world looking into what they had planned for the Winter Soldier. No arrest meant no trial.</p><p>Only time would give me an answer now.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sun blazed through my window despite the closed curtains. My room was nothing special, but more than I expected from an abandoned Hydra safe house in the Arctic Circle. It had windows, after all.</p><p>It should have only taken James two weeks to find me in Switzerland. After a month, it was time to accept the obvious, no matter how painful. He wasn’t coming back. Despite being cleared of the UN bombing, he remained an international criminal. Not that anyone noticed because the news never mentioned him again. He was a ghost – for all I knew, literally this time.</p><p>In the two months since leaving Lucerne, I had made a stop in the Motherland to raid a few remaining Hydra supply caches before continuing into Iceland. After settling into the safe house, I made a few shopping trips to spruce the place up – a throw pillow for the couch, decorative towels in the bathroom, some artwork for the walls. It wasn’t a home by any means, but it was homey. And it was mine. Ours.</p><p>I ran a hand over my swollen belly. Over the last month, my bump had grown considerably, expanding from ‘maybe just bloated’ to ‘definitely pregnant’ almost overnight. And yet, I still felt empty. Alone. This little thing growing inside me was the only connection I had to the one person that ever made anything matter. It was the only thing that meant anything anymore, and I couldn’t lose it. Ironically, that was exactly what put it at risk.</p><p>I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. When I did, I ate too much and slept all day. I tried to do everything right. I wanted it to be perfect. The odds were stacked against me, and I needed to beat them. I needed to have any piece of him that I could. If this didn’t work – if I fucked it up – there was no do-over. We couldn’t try again. I wouldn’t without him.</p><p>I didn’t know how to live without him. It was all I could manage to survive. I controlled what I could – ate healthy, didn’t lift anything, wore sunscreen. But there was a lot I couldn’t. Most notably sleep. And stress. Or sleep because of stress. One compounded the other. The less sleep I got, the more I worried about my pregnancy, and the harder it was to sleep. Without sleep, I didn’t have the energy to get exercise, which left me restless.</p><p>A flutter in my tummy put a slight smirk on my face. “Alright,” I groaned swinging my legs out of the bed. “Just a little midnight snack.”</p><p>I’d barely eaten all day besides yogurt with fruit and some crackers. My doctor said appetite loss was relatively normal at this stage and made a list of nutrient dense snacks. I kept cold cuts, smoked salmon, and roasted lamb in the fridge for days I could stomach that much substance. Or midnight snacks I didn’t have to make. It was easy enough to grab a few slices of turkey or throw some salmon on a cracker and plop myself onto the couch with a book.</p><p>I tugged the curtains across the sliding doors to the back porch, dimming the living room as I popped a second cracker into my mouth. The midnight sun didn’t bother me. The locals warned me about sleep cycle disturbances, but I didn’t have much of one to disturb. Waking up to dim shade was infinitely better than panicking in solitary darkness. Night made me claustrophobic since I lost James. It made the walls close in and my chest tighten. The CIA could storm in at any moment, and I’d never see it coming. Or Stark or whatever was left of Hydra.</p><p>Hydra would be rebuilt soon enough – cut off one head. They always managed to come back more sadistic than before. It was only a matter of time before they found me. With Rogers’s crew in custody, it was inevitable. James I could trust, but not Wilson. And if Yasha trusted Steve, then Rogers probably knew too. And who the hell knew what he wanted or if he’d come looking at all. If the stories were true, he probably felt responsible for getting James captured and needed to make it right. God help me if he knew James left me behind. That man clearly could not be deterred from doing what he perceived to be the “right thing.”</p><p>After retrieving my plate of crackers from the kitchen, I settled into the crook of the couch and lost myself in my romantic drama. I didn’t care much for the sentimentality or sensuality, but the plot was simple. There was no violence or danger. No weapons, no fleeing, no death threats. It was easy and relaxing – the exact opposite of everything my life had ever been. Books were a luxury we’d never been given, and now that I’d read a few dozen, I knew why. Reading gave me a beautiful escape, a reprieve entirely my own. It was a freedom unlike any other.</p><p>They couldn’t give us that kind of power. They couldn’t give us any power, but especially not the power of choice. It was too strong for their programming. If we’d had a taste of this, we would’ve torn the compound apart with our bare hands, ripped our handlers to shreds, and never looked back.</p><p>I jolted awake, heart hammering in my chest. Leaves rustled outside and rain pattered on the roof. I sat completely still, listening for any other movement. It wouldn’t be the first time a less than welcome visitor showed up. This <em>was</em> a Hydra safe house. The only people who knew how to find it were the last ones I’d want to. I hoped with Hydra scattered, this remote location would be safe. It was a risk, to be sure. But without the additional resources from our apartment, it was one I had to take. I couldn’t use any of the locations we had set up in advance; SHIELD had those now. This was the safe bet. Safer.</p><p>I shifted my weight, lifting my book from my stomach and setting it on the table. My arm snaked under the throw pillow behind my back, fingers dancing lightly over cool metal. My ears pricked up each time a new breath of wind made branches scratch at the windows. Distant thunder settled my nerves, and I unhanded the pistol buried in the cushions. Comfort was a feeling I was still getting used to. After all these years on the outside, it still felt like I was one mistake away from being dragged back under. And since I left Romania – since I lost him – it only got worse. One mistake, and we lost everything. A single screw-up that wasn’t even ours cost us our lives. Our dream. The only thing we ever dared to want.</p><p>The cuckoo clock I bought shortly after my arrival signaled breakfast time. I stuffed some bread into the toaster and munched on strawberries as I waited. When the toast sprang up, I spread peanut butter over the top and dropped it on a plate with cheese slices then arranged a selection of fruit. The stairs creaked under my feet as I carried the food to the basement. I threw my shoulder into the heavy door, throwing it open with a groan.</p><p>“Hungry?” I dropped the plate lightly onto the table by the wall and raised an eyebrow.</p><p>He slunk across the room, eyeing me cautiously. “This is the nicest prison I’ve ever been in.”</p><p>I glanced at the carpeted floor and murphy bed, shrugging as I ran my finger along a small stack of books. “Do you want me to trade these out?”</p><p>He lifted his plate delicately, rolling his eyes. “I actually haven’t started them. Been waiting for the catch.”</p><p>“This isn’t a prison.” I scanned the room quickly. “How about a deck of cards?”</p><p>“That’s a pretty heavy door for a bedroom,” he scoffed.</p><p>I smirked grimly. “I wasn’t expecting guests.”</p><p>He chuckled as I swung the door shut, clicking the locks into place. I rushed through my shower and pulled on a light jacket. The extra sun brought extra warmth, and it was halfway balmy, at least for the Arctic Circle. Grabbing a mug of warm cider, I shuffled out the front door. The cool air nipped at my bare cheeks as I shrunk into my hood. The frigid drops of rain blew into my face, chilling my skin. I wiped at the droplets, watching water flow neatly off the eaves of my little cabin. My bare feet padded over the slick wooden porch as I made my way to the corner.</p><p>I took a long drag of cider, swallowing thickly, and leaned onto the railing. He’d been right all along. People like us didn’t get a home, no happy ending. People like us survived, nothing more. Warm drops rolled over my cheeks, shaken down by my ragged breaths. I dropped my face into my hands, shoulders shuddering. My heart stuttered in my tightening chest, and my entire body ached. This was the danger of forgetting who you were. I was bound to Hydra forever, left to suffer in the rubble left behind.</p><p>With a new weight on my shoulders, I shook my head clear, pawing roughly at my cheeks. Survival was all that was left. A puddle splashed up around my ankle as I shuffled toward the front door. I glanced at the roof, fluttering my eyelashes to clear my blurred vision as I stepped inside.</p><p>“We’ll be alright, baby,” I sniffled. “I promise.”</p><p>My wet feet hit the bare floor and slid out from under me. I wrenched around to brace my fall, only to land awkwardly on my side. My arm snapped under me, shooting pain through my shoulder and over my chest. I knew the sensation well. I pushed myself up breathing heavily. My wrist throbbed, and my shoulder pounded as I smoothed a hand over my stomach.</p><p>Heat seared through my body with every stumbling step toward the stairs. I cradled my arm, cursing the fragility of bone. If it’d been my other arm, I could repair it myself. With a deep breath, I steeled myself to open the heavy door.</p><p>“I need your help,” I ground out.</p><p>My guest raised an eyebrow without rising from his seat. “What makes you think I can set a broken bone?”</p><p>“I need to go to the hospital.” My eyes squeezed shut, and I leaned against the doorway.</p><p>“It was a joke,” he sighed. “I can set it.”</p><p>I blinked my eyes open and took a shuddering breath. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”</p><p>“Now, I’m intrigued.” His boots hit the floor as he leaned forward, eyes scanning my body. “How did you let that happen, <em>Soldier</em>?”</p><p>“I can’t drive like this.” I bristled, sending a stab of pain across my chest.</p><p>“You’re one of them, right?” He glanced at my titanium hand, light glaring off the clenched knuckles. “You should be fine.”</p><p>“That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”</p><p>His eyes continued roaming. “Full of surprises.”</p><p>“I am not playing games with you,” I barked.</p><p>“What’s in it for me?”</p><p>I bit my lip, groaning. “You can go.”</p><p>He raised an eyebrow at me. “Oh?”</p><p>“Take me to the hospital. Leave the car.” My mind raced, every fiber of my being warning me against this. “You can finish your crusade against Rogers.”</p><p>“Big risk for you.”</p><p>Bracing for the pain, I stalked across the room. “Listen to me well, Rollins.” My wrist crunched, bones grinding together, as I lifted him, curling my hand around his throat. “You know our history. I have taken down squadrons of men while in far worse condition than I am now. If you or anyone else comes for us, I will not hesitate to use every skill in my very extensive arsenal to make you regret it.”</p><p>His lips twitched into a brief grimace. “I’d expect nothing less from such a talented asset.”</p><p>“Do not call me that.” I released my grip and turned toward to the door, smirking as he stumbled to get his feet under him.</p><p>He reached the main floor shortly behind me. “Where the hell is Barnes?”</p><p>My heart stopped, and the world spun around me. “Barnes is gone.”</p><p>Rollins faltered as he crossed the doorway, eyebrows pulling together. When he took a seat behind the steering wheel, he grabbed the keys from the dash and put them in the ignition without twisting it.</p><p>“He knocked you up and left?”</p><p>My nostrils flared. Blood pounded through my ears. Heat flooded my face. “It’s none of your fucking business.”</p><p>Jutting his chin out, he started the car and backed out of the drive. “I didn’t really know Barnes, but I knew The Asset. And I heard about you.”</p><p>His eyes locked on the road, scanning the terrain out of habit. Much like I did for years after I got out. Like I picked back up over the last few months. Nowhere was safe for people like us. <em>Animals </em>like us. Someone would always hunt us, always want to use us.</p><p>“You don’t know a goddamn thing about this.” I bit, turning my own attention to the window.</p><p>The drive would be long, and waiting was not unfamiliar to me. I settled in and made myself as comfortable as possible, ignoring his absent musings. The passing scenery eased my mind. Movement was good. It was safe. Keep moving, stay alive. It was ingrained in my psyche. They can’t kill you if they can’t catch you, regardless of who “they” might be.</p><p>By the time the hospital loomed on the horizon, I was almost calm. If it weren’t for the ex-Asset Handler next to me, I might have relaxed. As it was, we couldn’t drive fast enough. Every minute spent locked in with him my stomach flipped again. I hated needing anyone, but this made my skin prickle. The hair on my neck stood on end, and my spine tingled. I could only hope his claim of seeking Rogers was honest. He knew Yasha’s activation code. He could know mine. After nearly thirty years, I didn’t care to find out if it still worked.</p><p>The car stilled, and I unbuckled, holding out a hand. “Keys.”</p><p>He set them gingerly in my palm and slid out the door. My exit was more of a tumble. As I headed toward the entrance, I caught a flash of movement in my periphery.</p><p>“What are you doing?” I glared as Rollins sidled up to me.</p><p>He shrugged. “Going inside.”</p><p>“No, no, no.” I laid my hand on his chest, shoving him back. “This is where you fuck off and go after Rogers.”</p><p>“Change of plans.”</p><p>“What the hell are you talking about?””</p><p>A grimace crept over his face. “I’m staying, and unless you’re going to create a scene, there’s nothing you can do about it.”</p><p>I ground my teeth, fuming silently. “Why?”</p><p>“I was looking for Barnes when I found you.” He continued on toward the building, leaving me to scramble after him. “I thought this whole time he was there.”</p><p>“Fine. Regroup and get gone.”</p><p>With that, we parted ways at the sliding glass doors. I checked in at the nurse’s station, and he went wherever he thought he could find answers. I was as surprised as anyone when I learned I knew Icelandic. But, then again, I knew the safe house somehow. I had to have been here before.</p><p>The wait was torturous. The waiting room bustled with too much activity. I ticked by each minute in my head, logging visitors as they entered and left. Doctors and nurses swarmed about busily, murmuring to each other before heading about their business. The walls closed in with each name called ahead of me. The lights buzzed through my brain. Disinfectant assaulted my nose with each heavy breath, scratching at the edges of my mind.</p><p>Every moment, I reminded myself why I couldn’t run out the door. I couldn’t leave without being seen. I couldn’t fail at this again.</p><p>My head spun at the sight of the ultrasound machine. This was only the second one I had done since the program, and James wasn’t here this time. I could hardly bring myself to look at the scan. The slow, steady pulse of the screen got the best of my curiosity. Risking a quick peek, my heart lurched at the sight.</p><p>“Everything looks fine here.” The young doctor smiled up at me. “But your blood pressure is on the high side.”</p><p>I smiled sheepishly. “Stressed about the fall, I guess.”</p><p>She cast a skeptical gaze over me. “You should visit the hot springs. Relax a little.”</p><p>“Is that safe?” A cold hand curled under my bump instinctively.</p><p>“If you get too warm,” she shrugged, “get out. I’m more concerned with the stress.”</p><p>I nodded, running my fingers over the cast on my arm. The sling around my shoulder restrained my movement, and the tension in my neck greatly decreased my field of observation. It was bad enough knowing Rollins was loose in the same building. The added vulnerability put me on edge.</p><p>When I stepped into the waiting room, I let out an unexpected sigh of relief. Rollins was the last person I wanted to see, but somehow he was exactly who I needed to see. At least I knew where he was.</p><p>“All better?” He stood as I walked over.</p><p>“More or less.” I squared my shoulders. “You have a new plan?”</p><p>He grunted, ushering me past. “More or less.”</p><p>“Good.” I nodded sharply. “Should I drop you at the airport or just call you a cab?”</p><p>My stomach twisted at his smirk as I continued through the sliding doors.</p><p>“I’m sticking around a while.”</p><p>I threw my hand into his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “Like hell.”</p><p>“Barnes was my shot at finding Rogers.” His hand closed around my wrist, lowering my arm.</p><p>“I already told you,” I said, clenching my fists, “Barnes is –”</p><p>“If Rogers doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be.”  He pulled me out of the way, waiting under a light post. “At least not with my resources. My best bet is for him to come to me.”</p><p>I huffed out a growl, emphasizing each word. “Barnes is not here.”</p><p>“With Barnes out of the picture,” he sighed, rolling his eyes, “you’re the next best chance.”</p><p>“I’m –” My face went slack. “What? Rogers doesn’t even know me.”</p><p>He gave a sweet, disconcerting smile. “Sweetheart, if Barnes knew about you, Rogers does too now.”</p><p>I ground my teeth together, breathing roughly through my nose. He was probably right. Rogers had an incomprehensible hold over James. Even after Wilson showed up, he talked about Brooklyn. It was like a fairytale. He missed it, but he didn’t want to go back. Or maybe he did, but he couldn’t. And he knew that. We both did.</p><p>If Rogers got his hands on James, and he had, there was no telling what James revealed. He trusted Rogers far more than he deserved. It was his biggest weakness.</p><p>“I didn’t know Barnes well, but he had a connection with Rogers.” His raspy whisper made my skin crawl. “One strong enough that we made sure to avoid it at all costs.”</p><p>The chill in the air crept under my skin and sank into my bones. “I know.”</p><p>“Then you know I’m right.”</p><p>I nodded weakly.</p><p>“And Rogers won’t leave you to fend for yourself knowing your <em>condition.</em>”</p><p>“He can’t.” I agreed, dragging my bottom lip between my teeth. “I guess I’ll need another hand for a while anyway.”</p><p>His eyes narrowed. “Why aren’t you better yet?”</p><p>“I don’t heal like I used to.” My hand dropped gingerly to my bump. “Side effects.”</p><p>He let out a surprised hum and led the way back to my little car. The drive back seemed shorter. About halfway, my breath evened out, and the hair on the back of my neck settled down. The soft rumble of tires over unpaved road soothed my exhausted body, leaving only my mind to run wild. Even that calmed with a few more miles. As much as I hated Rollins hanging around, I wouldn’t hate having help for the remainder of the pregnancy. Or however long it took Rogers to find me.</p><p>It was more than a little convenient having food already made when I was hungry. I did all the grocery shopping and light housework to keep myself active. When I was cold, a fire roared to life under his hands. I took each day as they came. Slowly, my sleep cycle normalized, and my arm healed.</p><p>Days turned to weeks. My bump swelled into a basketball. Rollins took on more responsibilities and made sure we always had a stock of pickles and ice cream. Flutters turned to kicks, and my energy level dropped to zero. Rollins turned out to be the perfect balance of gentle and unyielding, always ensuring that I had everything I needed while pushing me – sometimes literally – to roll out of bed long enough to keep myself healthy. On sleepless nights, Rollins brewed a strong pot of lavender tea and settled into the opposite end of the couch with his own book. He would’ve made a great father if Hydra hadn’t gotten to him so young. Unfortunately, settling wasn’t in his cards.</p><p>When his morning workout kicked his ass, I fixed ice packs and helped him stretch out as best I could. We visited the hot springs every week or two to ease my various aches. After my fatigue and leg cramps worsened, we did simple yoga flows together two nights a week. It must have been a sight. A lumbering former mercenary and an ever-growing pregnant woman attempting to twist themselves into increasingly complex positions. Rollins certainly had a good laugh every time I toppled myself. I didn’t complain too much; the stretches relieved a great deal of pressure in my back.</p><p>I wobbled around the kitchen, searching for the ingredients to my fish stew. Rollins had left early to bake hot spring bread for dinner, leaving me on my own for the day. Even on my tiptoes, I struggled to reach my seasonings. My stomach forced me to lean further than I used to, and reaching for even the middle shelf left me winded. The recent change in my center of gravity was readily apparent with any sudden movement causing me to totter to one side or another. A screeching tea kettle prompted one such stumble as I scrambled to get it off the stove. Dripping water reminded me that I left the water running in the sink to fill my stew pot, which was plenty full now. I shuffled across the room, groaning over my already aching feet. Tossing a potholder on the counter, I set the kettle down gently and lunged to turn off the faucet.</p><p>My breath heaved as I cradled my lower back. The room faded to rushes of air in and out. My panting nearly covered the sound of footsteps on my porch, but my survival skills were far too honed to miss them. My back stiffened before I jogged to the door supporting my belly with my bionic hand. My other hand shook as I reached for the doorknob, my heart racing. Rollins wouldn’t have to knock, and anyone with ill intent wouldn’t want to tip me off. There was only one possibility waiting on the other side of that door.</p><p>Heat seared through my chest and up my neck. My nostrils flared. Blood pulsed through my ears. I clenched my jaw to stop the trembling. A second round of knocking lit a fire behind my eyes. My fist clenched around the doorknob, drawing a strained creak from the metal. I flung the door open, ready to lay into Rogers for everything he’d ever gotten James into.</p><p>Every breath I’d stored up for Rogers vanished. My face went slack, my eyes widening. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, blocking my dry throat. My chest shuddered when I finally found my weak voice.</p><p>“Yasha?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>He's back!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My vision blurred before my hands reached his face. Tears poured freely over my cheeks only to be wiped away by strong, calloused fingers. Choked laughter squeezed out of my throat as I repeated his name until my lips went numb. Our foreheads fell together, my eyes closing softly. I couldn’t hold a single breath of air in my lungs, and everything swirled together in my head.</p><p>“Look at you.” A mechanical hand brushed my stomach, his or mine I didn’t know. “How do you feel?”</p><p>I swallowed the building sob. “Better than ever.” I ran a thumb over the dimple in his chin, my bionic hand ruffling through the hair at the nape of his neck.</p><p>“Родная,” he whispered breathlessly, puffing hot air over my lips.</p><p>His beautifully rugged scent filled my every thought. “I thought I lost you.”</p><p>“Not that easily.”</p><p>“You were gone so long.” My chest shuddered as I gasped for another breath. “I thought –”</p><p>“I’m so sorry.” His nose skimmed my cheek as he shook his head softly. “I couldn’t risk anything, not with you.”</p><p>“What happened?” I pulled back just enough to look him over without breaking away from his embrace. “Where –” My fingers trailed lightly over the dull gold detailing in his charcoal hand.</p><p>“I will explain everything.” He cupped my face in both hands, tilting my head back to meet his gaze. “I promise. But not right now.”</p><p>A small jab under my ribs made me jump with a sharp breath. Yasha’s brow wrinkled, his eyes widening. His hand followed mine, landing on the side of my stomach.</p><p>I grinned at our intertwined fingers and bit my lip softly. “I think she knows you.”</p><p>He let out an airy laugh. “No, she does– She?” His brilliant eyes darted up to meet mine. “It’s a girl?”</p><p>A blush crept into my cheeks as I opened my mouth to answer, but no sound came forward. I nodded excitedly, wiping fresh tears from my cheeks.</p><p>“We’re having a little girl.” His voice wisped over the air.</p><p>My heart thudded until movement behind James caught my attention. Rogers and Wilson climbed out of the quinn jet, surveying the area cautiously.</p><p>“What are they doing here?”</p><p>His shoulders fell. “Can they stay for a few days?”</p><p>I clenched my jaw. “What if I say no?”</p><p>“I’ll ask you to pack up so we can leave tonight.”</p><p>My heart fell. “You promised.”</p><p>“I know,” he sighs. “But Steve –”</p><p>“You promised.” My eyes misted over, my stomach turning in knots. “I don’t care what he said or did. I don’t care about Wilson. You don’t –”</p><p>“Things have changed.” His fingertips brushed my temple as he combed my hair back. “And I will tell you everything, I promise. Just not now. Anya, please?”</p><p>I let out a sigh. “This complicates things.” Waving at Rogers and Wilson, I turned back inside.</p><p>“I know,” he huffed, following me. “But, I promise, Anya –”</p><p>“You don’t know.” I spun on him, startling him back. “You haven’t been here. You have no idea.”</p><p>He stared at me, mouth agape as the others filtered in. I looked over the two men, grinding my jaw. Small creases deepened between the Captain’s eyebrows while his eyes scanned over me. I shifted my gaze to Wilson, giving him a small nod. If nothing else, he’d kept our secret as long as he could. The room settled slowly as the mix of emotions found their resting places in each of us.</p><p>“Steve,” James cleared his throat, “this is Daciana. She’s – hell, I guess she’s my wife.”</p><p>My eyes darted to James, and my heart skipped a beat. Legally, this was true in Romania, thanks to a few good forgeries. It wasn’t the first time we’d said it, but this was different. We weren’t on the run. He wasn’t covering our tracks or weaving a convincing backstory. He was telling his friend.</p><p>Steve’s mouth dropped open as he shifted on his feet. “You’re married?”</p><p>“Not,” James hesitated, “like you’re thinking.”</p><p>And just like that, the warmth in my chest faded.</p><p>“It’s less conspicuous to travel as a married couple.” He looked at the ground near his feet. “There wasn’t a wedding or anything. And it’s not even my real name on the paperwork.”</p><p>“You’re married,” Rogers glanced at me before turning back to James, “and she’s –”</p><p>Before he could formulate the rest of his response, I waved to the small living room. “One of you will have to take the floor.”</p><p>I returned to the kitchen, where I’d left my stew half made. My vegetables sat neatly on the counter next to the haddock I fileted only moments ago. As I reached for the spices once more, a broad chest pressed against my back. A mechanical whir pricked at my ears before a metal hand passed my face. After all my spices were set on the counter, I turned and smiled at Yasha.</p><p>“Well, if you’re staying for dinner, I’ll need more fish.” I eyed Rogers and Wilson. “Can the two of you go to the market?”</p><p>The three men glanced at each other uneasily until Rogers stepped forward. “Not really, no.”</p><p>“That’s part of my explanation.” James shirked sheepishly.</p><p>“Can you hunt?” I sighed.</p><p>Steve gave a half nod. “I can shoot.”</p><p>“Well, that’s fantastic if the animal stumbles into your path.” I turned my attention to Wilson, who scoffed immediately.</p><p>“Don’t look at me. I grew up in Harlem.”</p><p>“Fine.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, groaning. “James and I will go. Can you at least chop vegetables?”</p><p>After receiving affirmative nods, my eyes shot to the bedroom door with a jerk of my head. James made his way to the room with me tottering after. He settled on the bed as I closed the door and raised an eyebrow when I produced a stack of men’s clothing.</p><p>“You kept my stuff?”</p><p>I nodded, swallowing. “I couldn’t stop hoping you’d come back.”</p><p>Nudging his knees apart, I scooted as close as my bump would allow and combed my fingers through his long, knotted hair. His forehead rested lightly on the top of my rounding stomach. Chills raised on my skin where his nose skimmed my shirt.</p><p>“You two were everything I dreamed of.”</p><p>My chest ached with confliction. “I’m angry.”</p><p>“I picked up on that.” He looked up at me slowly. “I don’t blame you.”</p><p>“Good.” I trailed a finger down his jaw and pressed my thumb into the dip in his chin. “Let’s get you ready.”</p><p>He grabbed a pair of jeans from the stack I laid out and looked over the shirts. I ducked into the bathroom for a hairbrush and tie before returning to chuckle at Yasha as he tucked his hair behind his ears.</p><p>“Perfect. You look exactly like former Army Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, Winter Soldier on the run.”</p><p>He tossed his arms out at his sides, smirking. “Do you have anything better?”</p><p>“Actually.”</p><p>I ran the brush through his hair, tugging lightly at the knots. When my brush slid easily through his untangled locks, I drug my fingers through, sighing deeply at the sensation. My mind settled as I shook loose hairs from my hands. James was home.</p><p>He groaned when I scooped his hair into a bun at the back of his head. My giggle raised chills over the back of his neck. His thick musk filled my head, driving every other thought from my mind. I passed him a plain white shirt, savoring each layer of his scent. Fresh snow – the smell I could never place before – overwhelmed all the others. The metallic hint of blood, the ruddy gunpowder, the stale smoke, all faded into the back of my mind. That crisp aroma that signaled the imminent approach of winter, typically only a subtle whiff on the breeze, overran the world around me. Even the clean warmth of last night’s thunderstorm escaped my nose.</p><p>“Tell me about this complication.” He nodded approvingly at the leather jacket I draped over the bed. “Does it have anything to do with why you didn’t follow the plan?”</p><p>I rolled my eyes, motioning for him to change out of his pants. “No, but it’s closely linked with your disappearance.”</p><p>“Okay,” he huffed apologetically. “Start talking.”</p><p>Wilson’s voice drifted under the door, discussing options with Steve. With a deep sigh, I began my story in Russian. His jaw locked at the mere mention of Rollins, but he made no interruption. He continued dressing dutifully as I tried different looks to obscure his identity.</p><p>“You’re not going to like this.” I took a pair of his sweats from the stack and left the room.</p><p>He glared at me as I re-entered. “We’re not handing Steve over to him.”</p><p>I adjusted the scarf hanging loosely around his neck. “You don’t owe him anything.”</p><p>“He’s my friend.” James pinched his eyebrows together when I returned to the closet a final time. “I won’t do that to him.”</p><p>I leaned into the wall, breathing heavily as I waited for him to button the new pair of jeans. “Try these.”</p><p>He grimaced at the hemline of the jeans before pulling his boots on. I knelt carefully in front of him and cuffed the material of each leg. His forehead creased softly as he helped me to my feet.</p><p>“Please don’t make me wear this.”</p><p>A broad grin jumped onto my face as he pushed the thick-rimmed glasses up his nose. I shrugged into a wool cardigan to compliment my snug, maternity dress and snatched a floppy hat from the dresser. The bed creaked behind me as James sunk slowly onto the mattress, watching me closely.</p><p>“Is this a punishment for leaving you?”</p><p>I chuckled and shook my head. “No one’s looking for the Winter Soldier in skinny jeans and glasses.”</p><p>With a pained expression, he heaved a sigh and stood. We strode into the living room together, met with a suppressed snicker from Rogers. Wilson belted out raucous laughter, wiping tears from his eyes.</p><p>“I just –” he gasped, “Thank you for letting me be a part of this.”</p><p>“The pants are too tight.” Yasha’s eyes narrowed at Sam, now clad in old sweats. “Especially in the –”</p><p>I swatted Yasha’s arm and shoved him toward the front door.</p><p>“Sure you’re not just a little numb from cryo?” Wilson’s jab chased us onto the porch as I swung the door shut.</p><p>The quiet of the drive was filled by Yasha’s explanation. “He wanted information about Siberia.”</p><p>My grip tightened on the wheel, knuckles turning white. I took a shaky breath and pulled onto the shoulder of the road. His knuckles grazed my jaw before he cupped my face snugly in his palm.</p><p>“I had to stay.” His lips tightened as wrinkles deepened across his brow. “I couldn’t chance them getting free.”</p><p>I nodded, leaning into his touch. Pressure built behind my eyes, my throat swelling closed. My shaking fingers curled around his wrist while my bionic hand tapped anxiously on the center console.</p><p>“It’s okay.” His hand moved to my chin, holding it steady. “They’re dead. We’re safe.”</p><p>I bit my lip, nodding as tears dripped slowly down my cheeks. My breath shook as he pulled me into his chest. He combed through my hair, shushing me quietly. My breath slowed in time with his lips brushing my ear. I fluttered the remaining moisture from my lashes and pressed my face into the crook of his neck.</p><p>“It’ll be alright.” He wiped my cheeks delicately as I pulled away. “We’re alright.”</p><p>“Fucking hormones.” I let out a wet laugh.</p><p>He grinned back, dropping his forehead to mine. “Those hormones are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”</p><p>My hair bounced over my shoulders as I shook my head. “All I do is cry anymore.”</p><p>“I’m okay with that.”</p><p>I drug a hand over my heated face, stifling laughter. “Last week, I broke into sobs because rain didn’t come in as predicted.”</p><p>“It’s okay.” His tongue darted between his lips as he smirked. “If you want rain, I’ll rig up the hose.”</p><p>With a final sniff, I left a kiss on his chin and smoothed his beard back into place. “So, Rogers kidnapped you, rekindling your century old case of severe Stockholm syndrome.”</p><p>He shot me a grimace as I pulled back onto the narrow road. “We laid low for a few days, so Steve could assemble a team. Then, we headed for the airport.”</p><p>By the time we reached the docks, his story had reached an end. I chewed on the side of my cheek as I mulled through my thoughts, afraid one might slip out before I was ready. He waited, watching me with a taut expression. His chest rose and fell rhythmically from a years of practice controlling reactions. The only hint of unease came when his eyes met mine and he bit briefly into his bottom lip.</p><p>“You chose him over us.”</p><p>“No.” His hand squeezed mine. “I couldn’t be near you. I couldn’t trust myself.”</p><p>My brow dropped. “You couldn’t trust me.”</p><p>“No, I – everything was all fucked up.” His sigh made my chest collapse. “I couldn’t – he knew the code, <em>my </em>code.”</p><p>“Yasha.”</p><p>“As long as that shit was in there,” his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth pulling tight, “you couldn’t be safe with me.”</p><p>My eyes closed softly. “You could have told me.”</p><p>“I didn’t want to lead anyone to you.” He gave a small shake of his head. “We were pretty far off the radar, but the whole world is hunting Steve and Sam.”</p><p>My face softened as his gaze fell to his hands. “They are rather helpless, aren’t they?”</p><p>He let out a snort, eyes brightening. “Definitely not used to being on the run.”</p><p>Distant shouting filled the air as we pushed our doors open and scanned the fish market. His nose crinkled, shifting the glasses on his cheeks. My giggle drew a sneer from him as he tugged at the crotch of his jeans. I took his hand and leaned on his arm as we walked.</p><p>“I hate this outfit.” He nuzzled behind my ear as we neared the first booths.</p><p>“I know.” I lifted his chin and looked around. “But it works.”</p><p>His eyes darted from one stall to the next, scanning the small crowd carefully. Tourists chattered happily in pairs or trios, observing the market with wonder. Dock workers shouted to one another as they loaded and unloaded goods and supplies. Merchants and fisherman haggled over the morning catch. Eyes roamed right over us. No one stared or scrunched their brow.</p><p>“Winter is over.” The crowd around us pressed closer as the sun warmed the docks and tourists flowed in to join their fishing expeditions. “Stop and enjoy the sun.”</p><p>His shoulders relaxed, a soft smile twitching over his lips. “I still hate it.” He squatted a little, tugging at his jeans again.</p><p>I shouldered him, sliding my hand easily back into his. I caught him up on our time apart as we weaved through stands. His smile grew wider with every word. His hand squeezed mine lightly, cool thumb skimming my knuckles, as I introduced him to a few of the vendors. His head tilted, and his brow wrinkled the first time I spoke with a local.</p><p>“I don’t understand that.”</p><p>My lips quirked up at the corners. “I guess I didn’t need a bail out on my mission here.”</p><p>“When were you here?” His eyes searched mine as we stepped away.</p><p>“It must have been early.” I shrugged. “I don’t remember anything – just came here on instinct.”</p><p>The growing din of the crowd washed out our conversation, allowing us to discuss our options freely. We wandered along at a leisurely pace, neither of us eager to return to the cabin. James meandered to a stand which showcased fruits alongside a creamy yogurt. I gladly handed over money to a captain's wife to buy him a bowl of skyr. She pointed to fruits, and he nodded for her to add them to his bowl. I couldn’t help but giggle at their game of charades. His eyes lit up as he took the first bite, and his delighted hum warmed my ears.</p><p>“Tell her this is –” He shoveled another spoonful into his mouth. “This is amazing.”</p><p>I passed his message along, to the beaming woman, and we continued through the market. “How long – Would you quit grabbing yourself.”</p><p>“They’re pinching things.” He gave a firm tug at the crotch of his pants before dropping his hand.</p><p>“Well, stop. You’re drawing attention.” My eyes darted to either side of us and over his shoulder. “Now, how long are they staying?”</p><p>“They’re just waiting on me.” His gaze dropped to the bowl in his hand. “They’re international fugitives – can’t stay in one place long.”</p><p>I let out a pleading sigh. “You don’t owe them anything.”</p><p>“They’re our ride.” He held my gaze. “I want to go back to Wakanda with you.”</p><p>I pursed my lips, shaking my head.</p><p>“The king has offered us both asylum.” He set the bowl down to take my hand. “We’d be safe – no more running.”</p><p>My throat dried as I lost myself in his soft eyes. “We could have a home?”</p><p>He swallowed hard, letting out a breathless confirmation. His eyes glistened as he bobbed his head calmly. “Me and you and – and her.”</p><p>Chills shot up my spine when his hand landed lightly on my stomach. Flutters erupted beneath his touch, prompting a firm bump against his hand. His face lit up, and he pressed his fingertips into my side. Another nudge drew an airy giggle from his throat. After a third, more definitive kick earned a hearty laugh, he cleared his throat and straightened up, glancing around him.</p><p>As the merchants closed up, we headed for the parking lot, cooler in hand. Despite spending most of the morning in the market, I only bought a few pounds of fish and a dessert or two as we came across them. I slid into the passenger seat and wound my fingers through Yasha’s as he steered onto the main road. With our heads cleared by our short escape, we settled happily in the car and began the drive back to the safe house. The road rumbled quietly in the background as James asked more about the pregnancy. I repeated the stories I’d told all morning and relayed the few I hadn’t. It had been an eventful several months without him, though not too difficult. He particularly liked the tale of my newly discovered aversion to dairy.</p><p>He fell silent as he slowed to a stop outside the cabin. His eyes wandered over my face, landing on my lips, and his breath shuddered. His cold fingers grazed my temple as he pushed stray hairs out of my face.</p><p>“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” His hand slid down my neck and over my side. “Both of you.”</p><p>A hum tickled my throat as I traced shapes absently over his hand. “Always?”</p><p>“I didn’t always know it,” he breathed, “but, yeah. Always.”</p><p>“Yasha,” I tilted my head and waited for his attention, “what’s going on?”</p><p>His lips quirked up. “I want to kiss you.”</p><p>“So, do it.”</p><p>He groaned out a chuckle. “If I do, I don’t know if I can stop.”</p><p>I grinned, biting my lip. “So, don’t.”</p><p>“I hoped you’d say something like that.” After a moment of hesitation, his hand wrapped around the back of my neck, pulling me to him.</p><p>His lips met mine in a heated fury, sending chills down my neck. My skin tingled under his roaming hands. His teeth nipped eagerly at the hinge of my jaw and returned his attention to my lips. Our mouths collided with increasing force, blood pounding so hard the world faded away. And, for a moment, the air between us was electric.</p><p>He pulled away, rubbing a hand over his beard. I took a steadying breath, running my fingers over my buzzing lips. As the haze in my head cleared, I found James chuckling to himself in the driver’s seat. The corners of my lips twitched as I watched his glee bubble over.</p><p>When he regained his composure, he smirked at me and swung his door open. I wobbled around the back of the car as he lifted the cooler from the trunk. He extended his free arm to me, and I leaned heavily into him. Tired from the exertion of the morning, my shoes crunched slowly across the gravel drive.</p><p>“You take a rest.” Yasha’s lips pressed against my hat. “I’ll finish up the soup.”</p><p>Before we reached the bottom step of the front porch, the door swung open, and Rogers burst through. “Who else is here?”</p><p>I squared my shoulders as he came toe to toe with me.</p><p>“Steve.” James threw a hand between us, pushing Steve back a single step.</p><p>“Buck, there’s a dungeon in the basement.”</p><p>“It’s an old Hydra safe house.” James sighed. “I’d be surprised if there wasn’t.”</p><p>I raised an eyebrow at Wilson who gave me an apologetic smirk.</p><p>“Someone is living there.” Rogers ground his teeth, shooting a glare at James. “Someone who might be at the police station right now.”</p><p>Yasha’s back stiffened, his arm pushing Rogers back again. “I trust her judgment.”</p><p>“Then who is it?” Wilson peered around Rogers. “I mean, we need to know how quick we need to leave.”</p><p>“You never should have come.” My pointed glare cut through both men. “You’ll have an answer soon enough. So, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to sit down.”</p><p>Rogers sunk into his shoulders, face reddening, as I cradled my stomach. Both men stepped to the side, making room for James to escort me inside.</p><p>James turned back to the men with a groan. “I’m going to straighten a few things out with them first.”</p><p>His boots landed heavily on each step as he hopped off the porch behind me. I shuffled into the house as he began a lecture on house guest etiquette. Their squabble faded behind the door, and I eased myself onto the couch. This evening could turn into quite the event.</p><p>The door opened softly behind me, and boots shuffled in.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Wilson hung his head as he slunk in, hands stuffed in his pockets. “This is your home, and you weren’t expecting visitors.”</p><p>Prompted by a glare from James, Rogers heaved a sigh. “We can understand why you’d need help.”</p><p>“The only thing I need, Rogers,” heat flared in my chest, “is you gone.”</p><p>Yasha’s hand landed firmly on my shoulder. “Let it go, Anya.”</p><p>After a long, tense silence, Wilson tossed his arms out. “We don’t want to cause you any extra stress, so we’ll help however we can.”</p><p>“Can you clean a fish?” I sighed, ready for disappointment.</p><p>Wilson glanced to Rogers and nodded. “We’ll figure it out.”</p><p>“Good.” My heart slowed, and a smile spread over my face. “I could use a warm bath.”</p><p>It wasn’t an excuse. Mostly. I smelled like fish and hadn’t been to the hot springs in a while. A fog began creeping into my head when Rogers yelled at me, and I’d been shaky since James arrived. I needed a break from the excitement before my blood pressure escalated any further. Before Rollins showed up to raise it again.</p><p>Unfortunately, I had less time than the little I anticipated. Boisterous laughter floated through the walls as I dressed. I never had pajamas. I didn’t understand the concept of having special clothes for sleeping. Instead, after my bath, I wiggled into a pair of leggings and tank top.</p><p>The brilliant notes of Yasha's rich laugh bounced around my head, warming my insides. When I closed my eyes, his crooked grin and wrinkled eyes danced in the darkness. A smirk played at my own lips as I left my bedroom. The boys stood gathered in the kitchen. James supervised as Rogers and Wilson argued over methods of deboning the haddock in front of them. Shallow cuts on one of Wilson’s hands gave away his inexperience.</p><p>I took a seat in the armchair by the fireplace and settled in to enjoy the entertainment. Once Rogers and Wilson had the basic cuts down, James joined me in the living room. Neither of us spoke a word. He glanced at my belly before returning his attention to my face. The smallest twitch of an eyebrow broke through his steeled expression, revealing the apprehension behind his eyes. I shifted my weight and pulled myself to the edge of the seat. He let out a chuckling sigh and kneeled between my knees, pressing his forehead to my stomach.</p><p>As he looked up to say something, the rumble of a truck in the drive stole our attention. I swallowed hard and grabbed Yasha’s hand. One way or another, this would be resolved soon. Rogers and Wilson crept out of the kitchen, eyeing the front door. I closed my eyes, focusing every sense on the approaching footfalls. I took a steadying breath as the doorknob clicked and opened my eyes.</p><p>Wilson’s fingers twitched instinctively at his hip before realizing his sidearm was missing. Rogers clenched his fist as if gripping an imaginary weapon. Rollins’s eyes darted to me as James helped me to my feet.</p><p>“Terms of our agreement have changed.” I felt the glares bore through me when I spoke.</p><p>“What agreement?” Rogers’s voice gave away the tightness in his throat.</p><p>Rollins smirked at me to disguise his dumbstruck expression. “So, Barnes lives.”</p><p>“Barnes isn’t part of the deal.” I wrapped my arm across Yasha’s middle, moving him behind me.</p><p>A growl tore from Rogers’s chest. “What deal?”</p><p>“I never wanted Barnes.” Rollins tilted his head slightly. “I told you that.”</p><p>“Someone better get to explaining.” Wilson snarled.</p><p>Rollins’s lips curled into a twisted grimace. “I live here.”</p><p>You know you’re harboring a traitor?” Rogers’s voice exploded over the room.</p><p>I rubbed my temples and glared at him. “Yes, I seem to be a magnet for them.”</p><p>James stifled a snicker as Rogers’s mouth hung open.</p><p>“I promised him Rogers in exchange for keeping my location to himself.” My shoulders fell with my charade of strength and independence. “He agreed to help me as long as I let him stay.”</p><p>My reply was met with two horrified glares as the realization set in. Wilson clenched his jaw, taking a half-step toward the kitchen. Rogers kept his expression carefully vacant, eyes locked on mine. The floor creaked as Rollins stepped into the living room, prompting James to stiffen behind me. His hand curled possessively around my hip, his eyes following Rollins’s every move.</p><p>“Deal still stands.” Rollins dropped onto the couch and relaxed. “Rogers leaves with me, and the rest of you carry on as though I was never here.”</p><p>James stepped around me, standing tall. “Those terms don’t work for us anymore.”</p><p>“That’s a shame.” Rollins sighed, looking around the room. “I know how much you wanted to keep this place off the wrong radars.”</p><p>He jumped to his feet and turned for the door. I bolted into his path before he could take three steps. My body went cold as his gaze darkened. Blood pulsed under my skin with each heartbeat. My breathing slowed, the quiet rush of air filling my ears.</p><p>“Sit down.” I shoved him to the chair next to James. “You don’t walk out of here without my permission.”</p><p>His lip pulled back in a silent snarl, exposing his teeth. The men’s discussion faded to the back of my brain, no more than white noise for my thoughts. Rollins had always been a threat, but he was useful. I had no allegiance to Rogers, so the deal made no difference to me. James, however, would never let Rollins lay a finger on Steve.</p><p>“I say we drop him on Stark’s doorstep on our way out.” Rogers quipped at Wilson who paced across the floor in front of Rollins, arms crossed.</p><p>James rolled his eyes. “You really don’t know the first thing about running, do you?”</p><p>“It’s not in my nature.” Rogers shrugged.</p><p>Rollins knew everything.</p><p>“Appeasing him is the only viable option.” I stared blankly into his dark eyes.</p><p>“You want to keep her name out of my mouth?” Rollins met Yasha’s growl with a victorious smirk. “I take Rogers. Non-negotiable.”</p><p>My hackles raised as I circled the armchair. The world fell into near silence, though I could distinguish a whisper behind me. I knew I was being watched by the familiar sensation buzzing under my skin. Rollins twisted in his seat, watching me study him. My fingers grazed the hunting knife strapped to the underside of the side table, and his eyes flashed like a deer catching a whiff of the wolf stalking it.</p><p>He sprang to his feet, but just like the deer, he was too late. Even with the additional burden, I was faster. My bionic hand snatched him by the shoulder as my other hand drove the knife through the base of his skull and slashed sideways as he fell.</p><p>I stared at the crimson puddle spreading on the floor at my feet. Rogers dropped to his knees, splattering blood up my leggings, and pressed his fingers into Rollins’s neck. I felt Wilson’s eyes still on me – watching me watch Rogers. James took the knife from my hand and carried it to the kitchen sink.</p><p>“He’s dead,” Rogers said over the splashes from the kitchen.</p><p>I nodded curtly. “You’re welcome.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think I have all the main points plotted out now. Just need filler</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steve confronts Anya and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
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    <p>I sat on my bed, tracing my fingers across my bare belly. After discarding my bloody clothes, I took a shower and didn’t bother redressing. The slight chill in the air settled into my skin, threatening to raise chills. My heart thudded heavily in my chest, pounding out a steady rhythm. They were yelling. Because of what I did. The familiar commotion outside my door dulled to a low buzz inside my head. The water in my hair dripped slowly down my chest and shoulders.</p><p>“Cleanup’s done.” Yasha’s soft voice covered the click of the door closing.</p><p>My eyes bored through the wall across from me. “They’re angry.”</p><p>“They’re upset.” He moved to the foot of the bed, skirting my line of sight. “It was the best option.”</p><p>My shoulders relaxed minutely, tension still drawing my muscles tight. I tipped my chin in acknowledgement, not meeting his eyes.</p><p>“You did well, воробушекa.” With a sharp nod, he strutted along the wall and stood next to me. “Time to come home.”</p><p>The name made skin crawl as my gaze drifted to his face. “I’m fine.”</p><p>“You need to come down.” He settled on the mattress beside me. “And I need to get to know my little girl."</p><p>A dull smile spread over my face as he stooped to kiss my belly. His lips skimmed my skin, murmuring soft nonsense and making my chest clench. Slowly, his heat spread over me, thawing the chill in my bones. As feeling crept back into my flesh, the draft of air sent shivers up my spine.</p><p>“James.” The bed creaked under me as I pulled him up next to me.</p><p>His steel blue eyes deepened as he brushed a knuckle along my jaw. My eyes misted over, fluttering closed, as I covered his hand with mine. The new metal was smoother than the titanium, and warmer.</p><p>“I don’t want to keep living like this.” I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head slowly. “I don’t want her to live like this.”</p><p>His other hand came to rest gently on my cheek. “I know.”</p><p>“They’ll protect us in Wakanda?”</p><p>He nodded silently.</p><p>“No more fighting?”</p><p>A smile played at his lips. “No more fighting.”</p><p>I nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t ever want her to know what we were.”</p><p>“She’ll never have to.” His lips pressed softly against mine before returning to my stomach.</p><p>I shivered slightly as his breath puffed across my skin.</p><p>His laugh tickled my stomach, his scruff brushing over the same spot. “Do you want to get under the covers?”</p><p>I wiggled the blanket out from under me with an eager nod. After the excitement of the day, I was hardly holding my eyes open. The moisture in my lashes dried as Yasha combed through my hair. Soon enough, I was jolted awake by a sharp jab to my bladder.</p><p>As I laid still, hoping the feeling would pass, deep voices drifted through the silence.</p><p>“He didn’t tell me,” Rogers mumbled.</p><p>“And you know damn well why.” Wilson bit back.</p><p>“But,” Rogers insisted. “He didn’t tell <em>me.</em>”</p><p>“Man, go the hell to sleep.”</p><p>After a few moments of silence, another nudge in my pelvis urged me out of bed. After a quick stop in the bathroom, I wriggled myself into leggings and Yasha’s shirt before heading to the kitchen. Despite the additional twenty pounds, my feet padded soundlessly across the wood floor. The crisp light from the refrigerator cast my shadow across the backsplash as I built my midnight snack. I wobbled back and forth to assemble my plate of cheese and crackers, letting the rhythm of soft breaths set my pace.</p><p>After closing the fridge, I dusted off my hands, heaved a deep breath and whispered softly. “I know you’re awake.”</p><p>Blankets rustled as Rogers stood in the center of the living room. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”</p><p>I shrugged. “Then you shouldn’t have come.”</p><p>He let out a good-natured chuckle, which took me by surprise, as he made his way to me.</p><p>“You know,” I crunched a cracker between my teeth, “there’s a bed in the basement.”</p><p>“You mean the dungeon?” He raised an eyebrow.</p><p>I popped a cube of cheese into my mouth, rolling my eyes. “Call it whatever you want. I haven’t locked that door in quite a while.”</p><p>He gave a half-hearted smirk, eyes falling to the floor. He stood a hair smaller than James, despite having the purer serum in his veins. He was smaller than James on all accounts, though only slightly. Yasha had more mass, but Rogers had the look. The Soldiers had always been a force of pure, brute strength. Every inch of the body in front of me was chiseled to perfection.</p><p>“So.” His muscles rippled under his shirt as he crossed his arms. “A baby?”</p><p>I blinked at him a few times and returned to my snack. “Idiot.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” His smile faded. “Just trying to wrap my head around it all – Buck and –” He motioned toward my belly. “I didn’t expect to find <em>you, </em>much less – if I’d known.”</p><p>My eyes flicked over his shadowed face. Slivers of sunlight peeked through the blackout curtains, leaving the cabin in near darkness. The dim light revealed enough detail to show the depth of his confliction.</p><p>“I’d have found you if I’d known.” His expression tightened, brows furrowing. “Helped you. Brought you back.”</p><p>“That’s exactly why he didn’t tell you.” I leaned against the counter, cradling my bump. “He knows I’m capable of protecting myself.”</p><p>“He used to trust me.”</p><p>Rogers brought a hand to his head, rubbing his brow. His shoulders dropped under the weight of his thoughts, and the air thickened around him. I held a cracker between my fingers, staring intently. I was familiar with regret, just not on his face.</p><p>A deep rumble followed by stuttered wheezing from the other room interrupted the silence. The droning grumble continued, growing louder until it broke with a heavy snort.</p><p>“You sure you don’t want to sleep downstairs?” I cleared my throat. “You can even have the key to the door if it’ll make you feel better.”</p><p>“Maybe <em>you</em> should.” Rogers chuckled, glancing toward the bedroom. “I forgot how bad he snored.”</p><p>“I don’t mind.” My eyes narrowed momentarily before I shook my head. “It means he’s sleeping. Well.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Rogers’s shoulders fell again. “I guess that wasn’t really a concern for us.”</p><p>“A lot has changed.”</p><p>Rogers met my eyes for the first time, opening his mouth hesitantly. “You’re one of them.”</p><p>I clenched my fist lightly, letting the mechanical whir fill the space between us. The truth was – “I don’t know what I am.”</p><p>“You <em>were </em>a Soldier?” His head tilted to the side. “That’s how you two know each other.”</p><p>My lips pursed. “Yes, Rogers. If that’s all you cared to know.”</p><p>He nodded absently, shaking off the tension between us. “How did you end up there?”</p><p>“What does it matter to you?” My jaw locked, muscles twitching.</p><p>“You killed an unarmed man.”</p><p>“I did what had to be done.”</p><p>“He was defenseless.” He rolled his shoulders back and widened his stance. “That’s not how we do things.”</p><p>“Unarmed and defenseless are <em>not</em> the same.”</p><p>“I’m no fan of Rollins, but –”</p><p>“It was him or you.” I ground out between my teeth. “James made his preference clear.”</p><p>“No one asked me.” His nostrils flared. “I would’ve gone willingly if –”</p><p>“Your self-righteousness will get us all killed.” I snarled, my lips peeling back. “You don’t get to stand in the spotlight anymore. You’re on the run, now – a fugitive just like the rest of us. You don’t have the luxury of a clean conscience. It’s time you learned how to operate from the shadows.”</p><p>He took a half step back, seeming to realize the gravity of his situation for the first time. “I don’t trust you.”</p><p>“With very good reason.” A familiar chill crept up my spine. “After all, I killed Peggy Carter.”</p><p>“I don’t know what they put in your head.” His posture relaxed as he dropped his arms. “But Peggy died peacefully six months ago.”</p><p>“Right.” I couldn’t stop the grimace that pulled at the corners of my mouth. “From completely natural causes. I heard neurological disease ran in her family.”</p><p>Images flashed through my mind as Rogers processed the implication. My interactions with Carter replayed one after another. The night I met her in the club, surveilling her over the next month, all the times her perfectly lined eyes settled in the middle of my crosshairs, the drugged lipstick I’d never used, her blood on the floor at my feet. I had no memory of dosing her with the toxin, but I did enough.</p><p>“I can’t think of a way Hydra would benefit from her loss of cognition.” I shrugged, crunching into another cracker with cheese. “I’m sure you’re right.”</p><p>His gaze wavered, eyes wide.</p><p>“You didn’t believe her either. Did you?” My eyebrow quirked up. “How many times did she tell you Yasha was alive?”</p><p>“I didn’t –” He worked his jaw slowly, voice cracking. “They told me she –”</p><p>“She didn't have dementia, Rogers.” An emptiness spread through my chest, closing around my heart. “She was poisoned. Slowly and deliberately.”</p><p>Steve shook his head calmly. “She was under constant care at the end. The nurses would have noticed something like that.”</p><p>“Who do you think was caring for her?” I scoffed. “Who do you think arranged her medical care, Rogers? Those nurses were Hydra.”</p><p>His eyes widened slowly, his mouth forming silent words.</p><p>I met his gaze, a smirk twitching at my lips, “We were SHIELD.”</p><p>“No.” His nostrils flared, and his eyes closed. “No, it’s not – you couldn’t –”</p><p>“I’ll admit, I didn’t administer the lethal dose.” I leaned forward, settling coolly against the counter. “But I played as much a part as James did.”</p><p>A fire lit in his eyes as he glared at me, jaw working roughly.</p><p>“Oh,” I feigned surprise, “that didn’t come up while you were out galivanting?”</p><p>“He wouldn’t –”</p><p>“He did.” My lips pulled back into a snarl. “For me. We took her daughter, terminated her pregnancy, and ran.”</p><p>His chest shuddered, with measured breaths. “That wasn’t –”</p><p>“I ended up with a bullet in my throat for our little mutiny.” My fingers ran over my neck absently, settling at the spot I knew had been hit. “He stayed to save my life. It ended badly for both of us.”</p><p>“Why would you tell me this?”</p><p>My hazy vision snapped back to the present, my eyes darkening. “When we part ways in Wakanda, and we will part ways in Wakanda, I don’t want to see you again.”</p><p>His eyebrows pulled together. He shook his head lightly and studied his hands. His eyes sparkled with curiosity when he looked back to me.</p><p>“I don’t understand.”</p><p>“You have this pull on him.” I sighed, pushing back the tightness in my chest. “He would do anything you asked.”</p><p>He shook his head again, chuckling. “He’s just doing what he thinks is right.”</p><p>“No,” my controlled voice came out flat and hollow. “He doesn’t trust his own judgment, so he follows yours.”</p><p>Rogers sighed. “That’s not it. We’ve just been friends a long time.”</p><p>“<em>We’ve </em>been friends a long time.” A growl ripped from my chest before I knew it. “But he doesn’t trust me like you. You’re his moral compass. And if you ask, he’ll do it. Every goddamn time.”</p><p>“It may not be such a bad thing,” he avoided my gaze, eyes set on my belly, “if the two of you to let someone else make the morality calls.”</p><p>My eyes narrowed, and heat flooded my chest as my vision closed in on him. “Stay the fuck away from us, Rogers.”</p><p>He shrunk away as I stalked toward him. I laid a protective hand on my bump, coming toe to toe with him. My eyes locked onto his, daring him to react.</p><p>“If it meant saving my family, I would put a bullet between your eyes without blinking.” I kept my voice level, “Do not endanger us ever again. I won’t hesitate a second time.”</p><p>After another heavy breath, I turned away and strode back to the bedroom. James shuffled quietly as I settled back in bed. His arm wrapped around me and pulled me close, settling on my stomach. His breath puffed softly over my neck, slowing my heart and calming my mind. The slow heave of his chest lulled me into an easy sleep.</p><p>For the first time in a decade or more, I had a nightmare. A real one. Not the kind that scared you in the moment or even the kind that made you uneasy the next day. This was the kind that made you scream in your sleep, but never woke you. It was the kind that someone else can’t bear to hear anymore and nudges you awake. And before you realize you’re you again, the one you love most is dying in your hands.</p><p>Fortunately for us, James was always stronger than me. When the fog cleared from my mind, and The Ghost mutated into Yasha’s face, I found myself pinned firmly to the mattress.</p><p>“You’re safe, now.” His soft eyes studied mine, his grip unyielding. “With me.”</p><p>The room slowly came back into focus. The dank, dark concrete bunker merged into the warm darkness of our bedroom. Shadows played lightly, the demons now far from sight. Yasha’s face, calm and concerned, stole my attention.</p><p>My breath shuddered. My fingers trembled. My heart hammered. And he watched me quietly, studying my every movement. He waited until the panic fled my eyes, and my expression softened to match his. Only when he was certain I was awake, he settled down next to me, pulling me into his solid chest.</p><p>I curled into him, still shaking. “We can’t outrun them forever.”</p><p>“I’m here,” he whispered softly into my hair.</p><p>My head spun again. “They’ll find us.”</p><p>“Next time they do, we’ll have an entire army in front of us.” His steely eyes held mine steady. “We don’t have to worry anymore.”</p><p>I rested my forehead on his chest, warming myself in his comfort. The skittering of rodent feet and my ragged breath broke the otherwise still night. A glance toward the window confirmed night had indeed fallen. A wistful sigh slipped between my lips as I imagined the scene outside.</p><p>“Can we go for walk?”</p><p>“A walk?” His chest hummed against my face. “Now?”</p><p>“Please,” I nodded, pushing myself back, “it’s beautiful at night.”</p><p>“Do you think it’s a good idea?” His forehead wrinkled, as his teeth pulled at his bottom lip. “Isn’t it cold out?”</p><p>“Nothing we haven’t seen before.”</p><p>“You could get hurt – trip and fall or walk into something in the dark.”</p><p>A tiny smirk flitted over my lips. “You’d let that happen?”</p><p>“Well, no.” His shoulders drop. “But what about – do they have poison ivy here? Or mosquitos. Wolves.”</p><p>“Yasha, please.” I silenced him with a light kiss in the middle of his chin. “I always wished you could see the forest. And I don’t – I can’t go back to sleep.”</p><p>His lips parted, and he ran a hand through my hair. “Of course, Жизнь моя.”</p><p>My eyes lit up, and I shimmied out of the bed with his help. After a quick stop in the bathroom, Yasha helped me bundle up before we headed into the woods. My coat stretched tight across my belly, and Yasha’s was much too large. I’d bought mine before I started showing, and we’d scrounged his up while we were still on the run. My scarf scratched at my chin, and the earmuffs tickled the fine hairs on my neck, putting me on edge.</p><p>His gloved hand slid into mine, and everything inside me quieted. “I love it out here.”</p><p>His hum mingled with the rustle of wildlife in a serene lullaby. “It’s quiet.”</p><p>“It’s perfect.” Our eyes adjusted to the darkness, revealing the crisp landscape around us. “It’s freedom.”</p><p>He took a deep breath, puffing his chest. “It is nice to have some fresh air.”</p><p>I hurried forward, pulling on his arm lightly. “It just started getting dark again. Some nights, I’d be the only one here, even most of the animals turned in early.” My smile slowly faded as an emptiness settled in my chest.</p><p>“I’m here now.” He squeezed my hand before brushing his lips over my knuckles. “Show me now.”</p><p>I faced him slowly, studying the glint of moonlight across his face. The light breeze fluttered a few stray hairs, making his nose twitch. His head cocked ever so slightly as he waited for me to begin. His soft eyes never left mine despite the snap of twigs in the distance.</p><p>“I did.” My laugh wisped away on a breath of air. “So many times. I walked through this forest talking to you, showing you around. Begging any god that’s out there to give you back to me.”</p><p>“Well,” his teeth glistened back at me, “I guess you found the right one.”</p><p>His thumb wiped at a tear I didn’t know fell, and I leaned into the soft leather over his palm. “I guess I did.”</p><p>Movement on the ground caught my attention, and my heart jumped. Grinning, I turned James around slowly, careful not to disturb the ground. A small bundle of white fur rustled the leaves at the bottom of a tree. Two brilliant brown eyes look out from a grey face, piercing through us. In a heartbeat, it fled into a nearby burrow, disappearing into its den.</p><p>“Arctic fox.” I whispered, hoping she would return. “I call her снежинка. I think she had pups not too long ago.”</p><p>“She’s beautiful.”</p><p>“Breathtaking,” I agreed. “This whole place is. I – I thought I was home.”</p><p>He shuffled around to face me and pulled me close. “We’ll have a home soon.”</p><p>“Yes, I know.” My chest tightened, and I looked away. “I’ll miss this.”</p><p>The weight of his stillness crushed my lungs. He didn’t speak for several long breaths, the hurt on his face almost concealed. But we’d made a promise not to hide our feelings anymore. No more masks.</p><p>“I can understand that,” he sighed. “I miss Brooklyn sometimes too.”</p><p>I sighed, wandering toward a large tree. “I just – I wanted to – I don’t know.”</p><p>I slid down the trunk of the tree, sitting among the roots. James settled next to me, laying in the short, green grass. I slunk down to the ground and leaned against him, using his body to support my belly. Owls exchanged soft hoots from their perches well above the ground in a dialogue that seemed to span miles. Insects chirped, and rodents chittered away peacefully. And the night stood still.</p><p>“The view is amazing.” Yasha tightened his arm around my shoulders. “I’m glad you talked me into a walk.”</p><p>My eyes fluttered open to gaze up at the shimmering constellations. “I wish we could’ve stayed to see the lights.” The faintest hint of green wisped over the sky before fading.</p><p>His shoulders shrugged under me. “The stars are enough.”</p><p>“Can you remember ever looking at the stars?” I smirked to myself. “Just looking for no other reason than they were there?”</p><p>“When I was a kid.” His voice jostled me softly. “When Steve had trouble breathing, we’d go outside to clear his lungs.”</p><p>I shifted, glancing up at his relaxed features. “I wonder if I ever got the chance.”</p><p>His eyes darted down to meet mine, barely peeking over his cheek. “You still don’t remember anything from before?”</p><p>I shook my head. “I guess I didn’t have anyone worth remembering.”</p><p>“Come on,” his hand brushed over my arm, “that can’t be true.”</p><p>“For all I know, I volunteered for all this shit.”</p><p>“I don’t know anyone who’d volunteer to be a human guinea pig.”</p><p>“No?” I pushed off his chest and stared down at him, eyebrow raised. “Because he’s sleeping on my floor.”</p><p>He snickered wildly and propped himself on his elbows. “And I told him it was stupid.”</p><p>I wriggled myself into his lap and nestled into his neck. My brain filled with his scent, his gentle smile flickering behind my eyelids.  His eyes crinkled at the corners and his nose scrunched like they always did when he laughed. My eyes fluttered open, raising the fine hairs on his neck.</p><p>“I hope she looks like you.”</p><p>Wrinkles spread from his eyes. “You don’t want that,” he smiled.</p><p>He rested his chin on my head, a low purr still rumbling his chest. I didn’t need to look at him to know his eyes sparkled with excitement. Between the two of us, she was almost guaranteed to have dark hair. But he had the most brilliant grey eyes, intelligent and focused, gentle and caring, but strong and relentless at the same time. I wanted that for her – to be fierce and still kind. Just like her father.</p>
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